


Sans' Sin Quest

by Sans Sin Quest (Aeonox)



Category: Undertale (Video Game), undertum
Genre: AND Fat Appreciation, Anxiety, But also Fluff!, Content warnings are posted at the beginning of each chapter!, Drama, Ectobelly, F/M, Fat Shaming, Feeding, Force-Feeding, Gen, Kink With Plot, Post-Neutral Route (Undertale), Reposting from Tumblr which has a lot more content on it if you follow!, Slow Build, Soriel at the end, Starvation, Stuffing, Updates around once a month, Vomit, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, alcohol mention, borderline suicidal thoughts, mild vore, this is a long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 86,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeonox/pseuds/Sans%20Sin%20Quest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Uh, since you’re gathering up magic to break the barrier,” He replied, feeling pressure under Sans’ glare. “Whenever you started doing that though, I don’t know.” What? Sans chuckled and leaned back, looking at Matthew and Sal’s faces to read something more out of the other two.</p><p>“c'mon, who’s the comedian here? heh. don’t quit your day job there, pal.”</p><p>The three of them looked on in a cocktail of concern and confusion, entirely serious. Sans sat there beside himself, eyelights disappearing into darkness as realization dawned. They really believed he was going to break the barrier by <i>stuffing his face?</i></p><p>***************<br/><b>A fic where monsters learn weight acceptance, deal with shamers, anxieties, and weird obstacles, and maybe... just maybe... they can all work together to make a happy ending afterall.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Sauce Challenge, double burg on the side

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on sanssinquest.tumblr.com for faster updates, related artwork, and more!

 

* * *

 

It'd been a year since he judged them in the hallway to the throne. Sans figured it was a good day to celebrate. The kid had gotten through without gaining LOVE or tainting their soul, and even if they left them there to struggle Underground, they were in a better place. Someone with a good heart made it out there, and that was a good feeling to leave it all on.

Today was going to be a good day too. Or, a good evening. Who could tell down here?

"aw man, math', is that really all you got? i thought you were gonna put your gold were your _mouth_ is." Hooting and hollering followed in appreciation of the joke, even from the 'big mouth' Matthew whom it was aimed at. Sans leaned back into his stool, almost too far before scrambling back for the security of the bar counter and wheezed in a rush of adrenaline and delight. Crazy Daisy was at the end on the corner, slamming down another drink and sloppily drawing out gold from her wallet. They scattered on the countertop, she clearly didn't keep track.

"YyyeaaHHaha! Well I's meant it, yanno? Grillbz, I love ya baby but yer hot sauce is murder!"

"Don't you mean _arson_ ," Sans laughed, earning another round of drunken laughs and playful shoves.

"You might be hot stuff, Sansy, but even _you_ can't drink that straight!" Sal and Funk leaned back, ooh-ing loudly and nudging him with their elbows all the while cackling at the playful threat.

"She's got a point man, that stuff is brutal! It'll burn a hole right through you!"

"heh. sounds like a _hollow_ threat to me. c'mon, pals," Sans patted the counter and opened up his carpals. "put some money down for the _condimental_ challenge wouldja? 500g sounds fair." Daisy slid over her pile, skittering along the counter and plinking off their glasses. He scraped it together and winked. "did you hear 500g? i _definitely_ said 5000g. wow, talk about selective hearing."

"Sans!!" Grillby was prepared for the exchange already, mindfully watching their sobriety dwindle through the night and as their sole company. He flickered by and set out a new bottle of his special Flaming Hot Sauce. Sans drummed his fingers over the bottle, grin spreading wider as he leered back at the gathering of his friends watching and waiting through the suspense. He broke the seal and set it to his teeth, waiting another moment to throw it back. The aroma was strong, he could feel the pepper already try stinging the inside of his eyesockets.

"heh heh heh, whelp. time to _spice_ things up a bit."

"Ohh, gosh, don't do it-" Sans threw back his head and began the stream of lukewarm liquid, dissolving into pure magic in his mouth. It was runnier than his usual ketchup binge and easily tried to leak through his teeth but he sucked in, adamant on taking the whole bottle. There was no doubt this was searing, it lit his senses on fire and heat trembled along the length of his bones. It burned because the magic it bore burned, and as it settled into his lovely central sack, already plump and full from the earlier evening's dinner, he could feel it spreading like a wildfire from within. Hot sauce was not as much potent in pure magic as much as it was an ignition, a spark, and Sans shuddered halfway through the bottle, feeling a very real possibility ahead of him if he continued. Spontaneous combustion- he could be on fire before he even got to the end of this quite literally.

Maybe if he weren't _Sans_ that would be the case, though. Sans was the master of his field of magic and the creator of his globular ball of energy he affectionately called his tummy. It squeezed and popped in protest, sounds drowned out by a cheering crowd to chug but he felt stabbing pain in the side come from his partner in crime. His stomach continued to prickle against the intense drama unfolding against it. Subconsciously, he slid his hand through the hole in his hoodie pocket to hold it closer, bring more physical contact to it and to assert his control over the hot sauce as the bottle drained. Instead of him erupting like a shaken bottle, it was his friends who blew up, cheering on and raising their glasses and bottles in celebration of the idiotic dare.

He rubbed his pudge and swallowed a gulp of cool air to calm his burning stomach, burping it back up a moment later on the backend of a chuckle. Their laughter was contagious, borderline hysterical.

"Y-Yer too much Sansy! I wish you would swallow _me_ for a change," Daisy sighed before sliding off her stool into a giggling mess on the floor.

"Oh- eugh- k-keep your breath away, I don't want that stuff burning my fur off!" Funk took out his comb to check his heavily gelled hair.

" ** _uurrgrup!_** heh. i don't mean ya any rug burn there, bud." They were wheezing. "wow, you all are just _eating this up_." Satisfied with himself, he eyed his prize winnings in silent consideration before shoving half of it towards Grillby. "i think i earned another double thick burg and fries for that one." The bartender collected it up and shuffled to the back.

"Oh stars, a-another? Does ANYTHING make you sick, dude?"

"H-H-He's like the Iron Stomach! It's a riot, I saw him eat the super deep fried bits at the bottom of the fryer when Grillby was cleaning once- I thought Grillbz was gonna loose it!" Sans nearly barked out in laughter over the sudden glorious memory, his stomach bouncing along with in his lap.

Very shortly later, his eyes caught sight of the plate being brought out, steaming hot and grease still sizzling, and Sans's tingling energy reacted to the sight. Saliva formed in response, beginning to drip through his tight grin before the plate could even be sat before him. He was contently full, yet still on the edge of his seat in heavy, heated anticipation as if starving.

"what can I say," He winked, taking up the massive burger, dripping with grease, hot melting cheese, and gooey ketchup. "i like my _meat_ and greets, no _bones_ about it." It was an awful unholy mess to behold and just the way he liked it. Their amusement and shenanigans blended into the background when he took the first bite of his fourth burger for the night, the soft squishiness of the fresh meat grinding under his molars no different than its predecessors. He felt his spine arch in excitement and stuffed the next bite in before he could even finish chewing, spurred onward with gripping, ravenous desire.

 _Wow._ He should try hot sauce more often if it made a burg suddenly become so much like- like _ecstasy_. The food still transferred into magic and settled into his stomach, trying to compress down but bloating up more than the mere bottle before it had done. Seems he was really getting full now if his stomach's tightness was any indication. The magic was so condensed, he could feel the lingering heat radiate upwards to the middle of his ribs. His stomach’s shape extended as he tore into another bite, and it cut tight into his sweatshort's waistband. The discomfort it brought him left him undeterred, Sans was completely immersed stuffing his mouth as full as physically possible. Another bite, more chewing, soft and sticky, the cheese filling the crevices of his molars. The spike of energy necessitated a tongue to divvy up the portions of the meal he stuffed inward, heightening the sensations to a new level.

He had plowed through the majority of this late meal when the tightness of his specialized organ sent a strike of retaliation in the form of white hot pain, hesitating finally to look down. He was well rounded, shirt tugging upward and the belly sneaking out. Whelp, Papyrus won't be liking that tomorrow. Sans reached to adjust his shorts to compensate for the shirt, but the tightness winded him, the elastic’s limit reached and sharp like a noose squeezing him out. Sans gulped and focused, pressing his hand against the tight, glowing sack to knead gently and coax himself, taking in the last pieces of burg with his tongue. This wasn't the first, and certainly not the last, time he'd felt painfully full. Pain was his body's way of saying, _you have more magic in here than you can handle, you should stop_. Sans, unfortunately, was a _very_ bad listener.

The skeleton gave out a content huff with as much breath as he could fit between his ribs, picking off the full plate of fries drowning in ketchup as he idly listened to his friend's chatter. He should probably leave the rest of his daring earnings for Grillby tonight… the poor guy really deserved some better tips. He curled another couple fries around the temporary tongue, then saw Daisy at the end of the counter, giving him gaga-eyes again. Sans replied in kind with a messy, toothy grin, dripping of half conjured magic saliva and ketchup. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, to his delight.

"Awgh gross!"

"heh… i guess i could use a bib." He paused for effect, eyes twinkling before his tongue slithered out between his teeth, running over to clean off sloppily. "but then i'd miss out on all these leftovers." Robin flapped his feathered wings and shook his head, howling in laughter at her expense. Funk also took amusement, leaning into San's space.

"You really take in everything! What do you DO with all of that magic at the end of the day?" Honestly? He didn't do anything special with it most of the time, which was why he always seemed to go about life with a nice curvaceous shape and not thin as a rail like Papyrus. Since he 'discovered' his stomach, he just always felt better having it. Let alone how much he absolutely enjoyed food, the feeling the food, the taste of food, the fullness and energy churning of it. Skeletons just didn't feel a lot otherwise; Sans felt even less than he knew he should. Sans shrugged in reply, a feat a lot harder to pull off with how tight and tense his midsection felt, swallowing down more of his meal with evened measure.

"Oh you know, just saving it to break the barrier someday." The joke came out ahead of his ability to treat the topic with the sensitivity it deserved, and when no immediate reaction met him, Sans's permanent smile stretched wider into an awkward grin. Damn, he knew better than to bring up the barrier. The pain in his abdomen balled up like a fist, sudden and forceful, and he stopped himself mid reach for the fries, wincing.

His friends, however, nearly exploded with rapture and all of the stress drained from him once again, his stomach settling with a soft gurgle and allowing him short, but easy, breaths again. Sans thought for a moment he killed them because they were in a manic frenzy now, laying on the counter and holding onto each other for support... but, of course they'd had enough alcohol to drown even Onionsan so he put it past him, focusing on the end of his fries. He shoveled them in, eating all at once as Sans felt pressed to do so before his body remembered to give him more signals. Good timing too, no sooner had he pushed them all into his maw had his stomach rumbled angrily and with might of its own accord. He held the counter for support once more in wait for everyone around, and all that was inside him, to calm down.  

**_Urrhghghglllllghlloourgh…_ **

_Ohhhh_ , it was feeling so hard to keep that magic. His face flushed blue with the effort, nodding dumbly as vertigo gripped, colors blending together, motions strung together under black light, his friends, oblivious, continuing on with exaggerated motions. Sans stuffed both hands into his jacket pockets to hold his stomach and focus on the energy. He just had to compress it, digest it, get it down so it was manageable. The idea of walking home was daunting but he had so much magic pent up from his gorging, he had an uneasy feeling he might direct the magic wrong and wind up god-knows-where. 

His eye sockets stooped lower in exhaustion the longer the minutes wore on like this, and someone must've gotten the idea that he was trying to nod off at the bar now. The next thing Sans knew, two arms were under his shoulders and hoisting him off from the stool back to his feet. His friends lamented his heaviness and he snickered at them, straightening out his back for balance. The stomach hung free without his femur to rest upon now, dipping lower than the shirt with a tell-tale blue glow and pressing harder yet into the waistband of his shorts.

Pft, who needed that? Obviously, bigger shorts were going to be in order. He’ll remember that next time.


	2. Blowing Up Breakfast, spider bake sale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today we also get more belly fondling, experimental touching, plot, and taunting…

He got home late after an exhausting trek from Grillby’s, noting to himself that Papyrus was still asleep and flopped down onto the couch. Finally, relief… Sans hiccuped and shifted to a comfortable position, huffing another tight breath. His stomach began burbling softly with his magic now; it was a soothing sound, his stomach even more pleasant to rub than just listen to. Sure the pressure after his binge was intense, like holding a glowing ember inside mixed with the heaviness of being submerged underwater… but it only skirted the edge of pain, instead eliciting pleasure. He huffed, running his hands up and down, gently pinching and kneading the squishy flab.

Sans looked over the edge of his shirt riding up to the glowing organ again, it’s semi translucent view of his lower bones, glowing a bright and healthy blue, and he admired it. He was pleased with himself over how _solid_ this stomach sack felt. Monsters were almost entirely magic after all, and (most) took up a solid corporeal form, such as himself and his brother. There was a key difference though: they lacked _control_ over that _magical physicality_. Sans couldn’t, say, change his body to look like another creature like a snowhare or a lizard. What shapes the dust took when their life came into being were pretty permanent, barring years of real-life developmental stages.

Papyrus was too young to remember much of this time, but Sans was once a teeny frail skeleton, and he abhorred it. He hated it so much the self loathing ended up stunting his health further as getting older didn’t get any better. But that was fine by him, Sans didn’t like sparring or getting into fights; he didn’t need that HP anyway. 

Having this magical tummy… it made him more of what he’d want to be. Soft and big. It gave him presence. Sans didn’t have to be tall like Papyrus to be _big_. Plus, It was an endless supply of gags and personal pleasure. What could be more amazing than that? To think he could change his body his own way, the way he wanted… it was like reclaiming part of his life back. Plus, it was _so cool_. No other monsters had been able to make new body parts or change their shape! 

Sans blinked wearily from his thoughts as his hand pressed further in the soft, malleable magic and he noticed it bubbled around from the force.

Hm… now it got him thinking. Sure, he wanted it to be a physical extension of his body, but what if he… could reach _in_? Did the magic inside feel like his soft, waxy shell on the outside? Or was that just  _skin deep_ manifestation? He laughed to himself, tucking that away for a future joke and pressed his stomach harder.

No, not yet. The applied pressure was painful and his bones rattled quietly, shaking from the exertion he strangely subjected himself to. He squirmed, he rolled onto his back, then the force of shifting weight made him gasp, heaviness resettling and pressing down on his spine. The pain and the euphoria of recent binge mixed together, earning a throaty moan. Sans then laid there, lingering as long as he could between these feelings as he stroked his stomach, eyes glazed over, sweating in the haze and gasping for short bursts of air. _Ohhh_ he felt so good and bad at the same time. Like maybe he should try to eat something that can crackle more, like pop rocks or soda, or maybe he should throw up instead. Sans knew he couldn’t do either if he tried right now.

 _Ggrrhmbgghll…_  

When his own fullness finally cleared from his mind and his stomach stopped rumbling, he grit his teeth and squeezed his hand hard into his conjured flesh once more, just trying to squeeze one phalange in. More pain flashed through, stomach lurching and hissing in threat, Sans hiccuping and tearing up. One fleeting thought passed that he shouldn’t go too far, but he was too high off the agony at this point, fair reason pushing aside for desire. ( _I want to touch it so bad.)_ He sensed for the ebb and flow of his magic, where it moved in a lazy churn inside his stomach, then dug his bones in surgically, hearing the rhythmic pulse of his own soul pounding through his bones-

 ** _Glorp._**  

Sans cried out, luckily not too loud through his clenched teeth, as he made entry. His stomach, which refused for so long to even take one finger, suddenly swallowed it up and even engulfed the rest of his hand up to his wrist. It warbled loudly now, wriggling like a Moldbygg, as if uncertain to stay physical or liquid. The energy was like electricity pricking in his hand, fine as needles and almost becoming numb in short order. It was soft and hot, and Sans felt.. he felt more through this _stomach_ than his own natural body.

God, it felt amazing. Having something _inside of him,_ finding a way to force more pressure in. Somehow it earned the similar kind of response which conjures his saliva, and it was dripping off of his mouth to pool on his shirt. He felt around and gasped in heated delight. 

Most of the magic felt consistent, not watery but smooth, kind of like a melted nice cream or warm butter. Then he found these…  _pockets_. That’s what Sans decided he would call them. They looked and felt like air bubbles, maybe… He bobbed his belly intentionally to observe them, determining it was space. Mass that did not hold his compressed energy as a singular force like the rest. He thought at first to try and pop it… but then changed his mind. The novelty of this was wearing off a little as he calmed down. Maybe he was just finally too tired from such a long and exciting night.

He was able to separate his body parts naturally, watching his stomach keep whole like a gelatin and feel lighter now without the physical intrusion. Sans grinned in satisfaction, sloppily wiping the drool on his sleeve. With another tug at his shirt to try and keep the cold out, he rolled over to his side, sighing with contentment.

 

* * *

 

 

Sans slept on the couch that night and, despite the infamous lumpy cushions which were far past the point of being comfortable, it was a _wonderful_ experience. Who would have thought _rest_ could be so _restful_? It was just too short as always. 

“SANS! GET UP LAZY BONES, OR YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR WORK!”

Why the hell did he take jobs that he needed to be up in the morning again? Hm, probably because he would never go without his vigilant brother there to push him. Sans blinked and stretched out, drawing in a deep yawn before curling back up to nap. 

“mmnokay pap……..” 

Papyrus wasn’t going to have any of that, however.

“IT’S A BRAND NEW DAY, BROTHER!” The lanky skeleton tromped back into the living room, scooping his brother up to set him down on his own two feet. Whelp, now he was gonna have to be conscious. “AND LAYING AROUND IS NO WAY TO START IT. MAYBE TODAY YOU’LL GET ANOTHER HUMAN FRIEND!” He lingered a moment more, mind still lagging behind as he jammed his hands into his pockets and grinned up at his energetic brother.

“wow paps, way to make me sound like some head hunter. you know what they say when they get captured?”

“SANS, I THOUGHT THE QUEEN MADE IT VERY CLEAR WE ARE NOT TO CAPTURE THE HU-”

“oh _the humanity_ ,” Sans winked. He watched as the patience in Papyrus’ face dwindled and, bemused with himself, stretched again for good measure with a crack in his spine.

“IT’S GOOD TO SEE YOU ARE AWAKE ENOUGH TO SPOIL THIS MORNING WITH BAD JOKES. CAN YOU PLEASE CHANGE YOUR SHIRT, IT’S GOING TO GROW MOLD IF IT GETS ANY FILTHIER.”

“hey, maybe that mold will take a _lichen_ to me.” He chuckled and shuffled off towards the laundry room, his brother stomping a foot and whining in frustration. His japes sure got on his bro’s nerves but Sans knew he was never _mad_ per say. Papyrus was just too cool like that.

Sans tugged off his ketchup and hot sauce-stained, greasy shirt, threw it haphazardly behind him and fished around for something more suitable. He still had quite a bit of bloat going on from last night’s feast hanging out. Noticing, he glanced back to see if Papyrus was looking this way and sighed when he saw his brother had left the living room. Good, if he just got a comfy shirt that fit for today, he could slide through with his big celebration meal without giving Papyrus any reason to scold. Sans finally procured one of his white turtleneck sweaters and did a smell check- just a little sweaty and musty, not too bad and definitely no ketchup stains. He threw it on, pulled it down, and tested it’s coverage by puffing out his stomach as much as he could. Good, this fit just fine.

With his favorite jacket thrown overtop of that, he sauntered into the kitchen and plopped down in his seat, leaning over with his hands propping his head and watching Papyrus work his kitchen magic. It smelled of eggs and dill, which was a very good start to any breakfast.

“so, what’s cookin?”

“THE GREAT CHEF PAPYRUS HAS DISCOVERED NEW TECHNIQUES IN MAKING OMELETS!” He tipped his chef hat back and flashing a grin. Sans chuckled in return.

“wow, that’s _egg_ citing, bro. but now where am i going to get my daily dose of charcoal?” He watched as his brother’s outlandish movements stilled to a halt, Sans’ concern rising. “um, i was just kidding, pap. honest, the burning isn’t so-”

“I…I DIDN’T MAKE YOU ANY.” _Oh._ Well, that… really sucked. The kitchen filled with an awkward tension, Papyrus twisting around to face Sans, boney face etched with regret. “I REALLY WOULD HAVE LOVED TO! THERE IS NO GREATER JOY THAN TO COOK SPECTACULAR MEALS FOR MY DEAR BROTHER! BUT I’M ALSO WORRIED ABOUT YOUR EATING HABITS, SANS.”

“where is this coming from?” He blurted out. Papyrus drilled his sight down to San’s wide midsection and the skeleton followed the look. “okay granted, but that’s never… like, been a problem, right? it’s just me, pap. don’t worry about it.”

“IT IS A PROBLEM, SANS! IT’S EMBARRASSING AND AS IT GETS BIGGER, YOU GET EVEN LAZIER!” Sans forced his smile, trying to ignore the sweat beading his skull.

“is that even possible?”

“SHOCKING, I KNOW.” Papyrus placed one hand in another, wringing his gloves uncomfortably. Everything about this conversation was horrible and Sans wanted to disappear, make Papyrus understand how much his belly meant to him and how some days it was the only thing worth looking forward to. He couldn’t do any of that. “UNDYNE SAYS IT’S UNHEALTHY TOO, AND I DON’T WANT YOU FALLING DOWN BECAUSE YOU EAT TOO MUCH. I… CANNOT MAKE YOU BUT… IF YOU WOULD BE WILLING TO TRY THE DIET THING UNDYNE SAYS, I WOULD BE REALLY HAPPY.” His sincere look was broken off by a smolder of smoke coming up from behind him, whipping around to fix the mistake. Sans was grateful to be relieved of the burden of Papyrus’ guilty stare, getting up from his seat to begin his retreat as soon as possible. 

“yeah. sure thing, bro. i’ll try.” Papyrus beamed, swiveling back with exuberance only to find his older brother had already gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Sans decided to walk to his post, kicking at the snow occasionally and deeply immersed in his thoughts. He put Papyrus through so much, it wasn’t his brother’s fault. _Sans_ was the weird one, he was the one who ate everything put in front of him and created a magic stomach to play with and hoard additional magic he didn’t even _need_. His brother wasn’t asking for him to get rid of the stomach, he just wanted him to stop overdoing it. _(Right…?)_ Boy, it’d been a long, long time since he could remember eating just 3 meals a day like Pap does. Probably a couple years? Maybe it only felt like years because of the resets? Still it was long enough to be kind of pathetic. No wonder Pap felt embarrassed by his older brother. Sans was being so selfish, thinking he had the right just because it was his own body. He kept losing sight of the fact Pap had to live alongside that body too.

He sighed, forcing his most tired and weary smile as he passed through the snowy forest, ignoring the early pains of hunger. ( _Come on, you’re better than that. You would move the world for your brother, this is no exception.)_ Sans felt relieved when he saw the conveniently shaped lamp, the corners of his eyesockets crinkling in a resurfaced happy memory instead of his self depreciation.

The kid…

A lot of things changed because of that human. Sans vaguely recalled there being more change before; other timelines and other versions of himself living through different faces of the kid, but they were so distant now, former memories became deja vu left behind. Toriel stepped up to reclaim her place at the throne when Sans told her how desperate monsters became at Asgore’s death, and she instated a new order of peace and strove towards a future living _with_ their difficulties instead of lamenting them. _(Kinda like how he needed to learn some self-restraint rather than feel sorry about it…)_

The biggest act she passed was to disband the Royal Guard. Many were very upset by this decision, especially Papyrus, but if Toriel was anything, she was an understanding and sublime caretaker. She let Papyrus have Undyne’s old title and gave him a job tending to the gardens Asgore left behind. She placed more emphasis on Alphys’ work to encourage her productivity alongside Undyne. Undyne… the transition was hardest for her, but she seemed to be having a blast with teaching kids at the new school at the edge of New Home. She wasn’t that capable of helping Alphys with her projects as much as she was a strong moral support that the socially reclusive scientist needed.

But for Sans… wearing multiple hats was normal, and he was Toriel’s support through the transition of rising up from the Ruins. She asked Sans to _keep_ his job as a sentry, but with a lot of revision- the doorway into the end of the ruins had been sealed off by her, and only he could get to the golden flowers now with his “shortcuts”. She couldn’t bring herself to trust monsterkind again, despite the success of the last human’s journey. That was even with the attitudes over humanity slowly changing in the wake of their playful visitor. Seeing someone like her as flawed to bitterness as himself made the queen that much more of a rare gem in his eyes. _That_ was a level of mutual understanding no one had ever crossed before. Sans _adored_ her.

Unfortunately, Toriel seemed fixated on some half-baked truth that _Sans_ was the reason the human child made it through safely, which was painfully **un** true. _(Even half-baked sounds so good right now… like a dough or a batter…)_  

Since he was now the lone sentry coming by, she asked for him to check on the area just twice a day, figuring the human would be fine for a couple of hours isolated. He would reassure her that no new humans had fallen down, and if they did, he’d care for them and bring them along safely. 

As was his new routine, he entered the enclosure and passed by some of the resident monsters, stopping dead in his tracks when the smell hit him. **_Spider Bake Sale._**

Ohhhh, but he ALWAYS bought a box every morning, even when Papyrus did make breakfast! Sans began to sweat in a sudden heated desire, clenching and unclenching his hands and looking back down at his bulge with scrutiny. Well… he was already over the line supposedly. Look at that enormous gut, it wasn’t going to get any worse by just having _breakfast_. Grillby’s was way worse in the heavy foods department, so if he was going to cut back anywhere, it should be for brunch. Plus, going cold turkey would be a bad idea… and so would pissing off Muffet. He grinned more cheerfully, resigning happily to this meal and pushing his painful conversation with Papyrus even further back in his mind. He strolled up to the little booth the spiders had set up, giving Muffet a cheeky look as she daintily helped the spiders get ready for the rest of their busy day.

“so, I _knead_ to know how much longer these poor spiders are gonna be stuck in this stuffy place. are they _leaven_ soon?” She turned his way and clasped her lower arms, the other pairs busying themselves steeping a fresh pot of tea and balancing a workbook.

“Veeery funny, you. Once we’re all reunited in our new home, we can finally open up the shop in Hotland.” Her spider brethren were so delicate, she could only manage to shield one per day between bringing in baked goods. Muffet was a super talented baker, he was antsy for this rehab effort to be finished up so she could focus on her passion _(Which, incidentally, coincides with my own passion for her baking)_. Her tone changed, switching like a light switch out of one-on-one personal mode into her sales pitch voice. Sans couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the change. “Would you like something to drink, Sans~?” 

“nah, it’s not my _cup of tea_.” He winked and she smiled politely, taking his jokes in stride. “just here for my spider doughnut fix. can ya hook me up with a dozen?” Sans paused, watching her grab up the first doughnuts with one free limb to put in the box and he blurted out before he could think twice or stop himself, “actually, make it _two_ dozen for the road. i’m a _gluten_ for punishment… heh.” 

“Ha ha, but that’s what I like about you Sans~.” She finished loading up the boxes and extends one limb out. “That will be 168g.” He reached in his pocket but eyed her up. She seemed to be in a good mood today, maybe he could go for it. Then he wouldn’t feel _as_ guilty for having a big meal so soon after.

“168g? geez, and with all the business i’m always giving you… i don’t suppose you’d be interested in giving a _bulk_ discount huh? you know, as compensation for making me so _bulky_.” He laughed for effect. Muffet seemed to remain patient and still, waiting for the gold to be handed over. Sans chuckling quieted at her serenity, pressing harder. “i’m willing to negotiate for 100g-”

“Oh I’m sorry, did I say 168g? I meant 5555g.” Her many eyes narrowed a little, voice sickeningly sweet. Sans’ permanent smile wavered a little, sensing a line had been crossed.

“i don’t think that’s how that works…” Muffet snapped without warning. Two spindly arms grabbed Sans by the jacket collar and yanked him forward off of his feet in an almost threatening way, another hand poked hard into his squishy stomach… curiously, though, the fourth arm took a spider cake pop out from the cooler, holding it just at Sans’s eye level. It was a caramel color with chocolate chips speckled on it, a spider-shaped squiggle of syrup drenched over and hardened. It smelled as delicious as it looked and his stomach rumbled for more the magical fulfillment. Clearly, she felt that beneath her one hand and smiled with twisted delight. 

“I’m _asking_ for 5555g,” She purred dangerously- he has NO idea she could even do that. Purring spiders, who’da thought! “Don’t you want my pastries? I thought you wanted something to eat, Sans~” Sans nodded dumbly, fixated on that cake pop. How did she make it look so damn perfect? Ugh, she was taking advantage of this situation now… he ought to do something about that. But uh, that also required putting forth an effort. Muffet squished his tummy again and it gurgled for her, some strange beg for appeasement. He echoed its sentiment with a yearning moan. “Oh so sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t hear that~ Maybe this will help motivate you?” 

She lowered the cake pop to rest against his teeth. Was she… trying to feed him? Sans took the bait, opening his mouth to welcome the sugary confection when she pulled it back away again. ( _Wow, cruel._ ) “Ah ah ah,” Muffet tisked him. “You have to _buy_ that first.” He squirmed in her hold and gave a nod.

“o-okay…”

“You’re going to buy it for 5555g then?” She waved the cake pop back and forth in front of him tauntingly. Then, she pinched the furthest most edge of his flab, pulling on it slow and steady, stretching it to the point of pain. He nodded again, feeling almost dizzy from the wave of sensations and mouth watering like he had sprung a leak.

“yes… please…” Muffet smiled wickedly and laughed, shoving the cake pop into his mouth and dropping him unceremoniously. He sat like the lump he was, melting into the rich batter cake in his mouth instead of getting back up. These were a specialty she didn’t always make, it was so cool and chewy, just like that dough he was craving earlier. Sans savored it while it lasted and sucked on the stick once it had completely dissolved away. Then, his eyes darted back up to her like a startled bird once the distraction had taken care of itself, sweating starting back up. “um, but, really i… i don’t have 5555g…” She leaned into his face without warning once more, so he leaned away in hopes to escape her reach.

“I guess that’s okay today, Sans~ You’re such a good customer, I’ll charge you 175g instead.” He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding, grabbing the amount out of his pocket and slamming it on the table without hesitation.

“boy, that’s some sales pitch… mind giving me some tips for my hot dog stand?” He chuckled a bit, winded from the ordeal and winking in good nature. No hard feelings whatsoever. Muffet smiled and placed the two dozen doughnut boxes on his lap compliantly.

“Have a nice day~”

 

* * *

 

 

Sans teleported into the enclosed space of the ruins, glancing about the dark room and stepping closer to the golden flowers. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief that the awful talking flower wasn’t here today; he was in no mood to deal with his attitude. Drawing out a doughnut from his recent purchase as he wandered alone, he paid more mind to the task at hand. Surprising himself with the assorted flavors was a fun game to play. 

Ahh, this first one was glazed. Heh, it was obviously fresh baked, he grinned. Muffet must not have been too miffed with him afterall. ( _Whatever the hell **that** was about._ ) Glazed was definitely one of his favorites anyway- it was simple, not overly sweet, and chewy. The doughnut was warm and practically melted in his mouth before even turning to an energizing magic.

Next was a powdered kind, soft and crumbly white powder coated the outside with a silky white cake on the inside. It not only tasted divine, it reminded him of the time he shared a dozen with the human kid and enjoyed their shocked delight over it. Apparently, the humans had a similar line of doughnuts but they didn’t use heavy cream and condensed milk in the cake portion, leaving the overall taste dry and chalky. Sans couldn’t imagine why the heck they would do that, but hey, that was one victory for monster kind. And one delicious treat for him to enjoy.

Hmm, seemed some rocks had fallen down. Wonder if someone was nearby the pitfall into Mt. Ebbott? He moved over to inspect, biting into his third doughnut all the while. “mmmh!” He exclaimed to himself and began to gobble up the s’mores doughnut. That marshmallow filling and graham-coated chocolate icing always hit the spot. His tummy happily burbled for more and Sans was quick to fulfill the order.

The Boston Cream was rich and the custard filling silky, he imagined what it would be like to just drink the custard straight. He imagined it was probably thick and creamy, a gentle vanilla flavor and just a touch cool, maybe it even had a similarity to his stomach’s own consistency. The very thought made him ache with desire. Strawberry frosting and sprinkles came after, which was colorful and cute, the sprinkles shaped like adorable little spiders. Another glazed, this time it was cooled down enough for the sugar to crystalize and flake, leaving a lot of residue behind to lick off his phalanges. Crumberry had a velvety texture, semi-sweet cranberry icing, and heavy dusting in pie crumbs that tickled against his tongue. He wrestled with the round jelly doughnut after that, the jam squeezing out after an enormous snatch from his jowls. Sans wound up securing the entire pastry with his tongue and taking it in whole. Challenging to juggle, but delicious nonetheless.

Devouring them all too quickly, he plucked up the next and the next and the next. He was still scanning the ruins but the tired, early morning drudge melted away as a sickening amount of sugar put more pep in his step, his magic teeming and energized and nearly buzzing audibly. Boy, he could probably handle jogging with Papyrus if he could eat doughnuts at the same time! Sans made his way through the first dozen in record speed, which was hardly a surprise considering his lack of a home cooked meal… the second batch started off with her chocolate cake doughnut, fried and glazed to perfection, topped with pecan coconut caramel syrup and a whole cherry pressed into the center. This is kind of what heaven would taste like. If only he could eat this forever.

Finishing his initial scan, Sans returned to the center of the room and took a load off to sit in the yellow flowers, happily munching away on his doughnuts and looking up at the crevice. For being one of two places in all of the underground which got direct sunlight like this, it still felt like the darkest place to be. Sans wished his telescope would have allowed him to see the night sky from here too, but his test failed several months ago and he hadn’t given it another thought since.

“ _hic_ oof…” He sighed as he realized he began to feel some tightness return on his 17th doughnut. He sat the blueberry flecked glazed doughnut in his teeth for a moment to investigate his suspicion of the culprit. Sure enough, those darn sweat-shorts… well, it wasn’t like he would be getting Papyrus to hem it for him now. Sans uncomfortably dug the elastic out of his bulging, nearly fleshy sack, but as he moved it down, gravity resettled to pull his stomach down with. Oh you rascal… it was a little bit scandalous, but if he pulled his turtleneck down enough, no one had to see. Sans tried to hurry and tug his shorts halfway down his pelvic bone as the doughnut caught in his mouth gave him tantalizing urgency. ( _Good, that feels a bit better._ )

He bit into his prize ravenously as he used his free hand to inspect the changing curves and shapes of his body now. His stomach wasn’t just confined in the space between his sternum and his obturator foramen now, it was flanked by lumps resting against the contours of his llium and trying to spill over. It all seemed continuous to his gut really, and Sans gave it a test squeeze through his sweater. Hmm, too hard to tell anything like that. Rolling the fabric up to his ribs, he rubbed his stomach with great appreciation and gave the new side rolls a squeeze. Ooh, it was even _more_ squish-able than his big bloated belly. That was a nice, surprising development~

Sans slowed his doughnut binge for a small break for experimentation. Rubbing, kneading, pressing, pulling, cupping… He wished he had softer hands for massaging. All of it was enjoyable. He pulled it taught, then let it jiggle loose. So smooth and clear… if it weren’t his own stomach, he might have been tempted to try and bite it like a fruit.

That’s when he noticed those pockets again. One was in his left side flab, just on the edge of his taught belly. Sans pinched himself in the spot, securing it with both hands. Suddenly, it popped and a force ran through him uncontrollably, bursting forth from his ribs-

##  **“BBRRRRRRUUUHHHHPPP!”**

O-Oh wow. He sat there in shock and giddiness, still holding the fleshy spot in a daze. So, _that’s_ what those air pockets did. Sans never remembered ever being so loud in his life… but he figured it definitely had to do with all of that compressed magic around the bubble reacting with the pressure. Surely. He was totally going to have to show that off to the guys at the bar sometime.

He grinned to himself and flopped backwards into the flower field, caressing his swollen stomach gently as he dug back into his doughnut box to polish off his exceedingly large breakfast. Releasing that air really helped him push further, packing magic down on magic like it was going out of style, all while nearly entranced by the euphoria. Reach, bite, chew, rub, repeat. Sweet and sticky, soft and cakey, fried oil and fruit jams… It was all so delicious and wonderful ( _WonderFULL. Heh, that’s a good one to save…_ ). He hadn’t a care in the world steeped in all of this delicious food and soft rubs. 

San’s 24th doughnut went down with a dollop of white cream filling, finally at the graceful end of his binge worthy breakfast and feeling comfortably full. He laid there a while longer, licking off and savoring the last crumbs as he rubbed heavy-handed circles into his exposed, ballooning midsection. The sun filtered down through miles of earth and gleamed off of the cyan surface underhand, the warmth his magic sack absorbed spread further outward into his normally insensitive bones. Sans closed his heavy eyesockets, practicing his short breaths and feeling everything he could, while he could. He almost nodded off into a lazy nap, but then a voice cut through his trance.

“Gee, congratulations on the upgrade from a smiley trashbag to an inflated garbage disposal!”

 **Oh no.** Did he really have to be here n _ow_? Reactionary, San bolted upright but was pushed back down by his own weighty stomach, jiggling back hard from the force. He planned better the second time, rolling to his side and pushing himself up from the ground with his arms instead. There was that bastard flower, smiling with the best shit-eating grin he’d ever seen in his life.

“that’s coming from someone who lives in fertilizer,” he smirked back despite the embarrassing display. Sans hurried to cover his indecency again, checking briefly that his pants were accommodating enough before jamming his hands into his pockets. Flowey didn’t seem to be here for a fight today, otherwise he would have struck while he was prone, and the skeleton was relieved for it. “so, been a while huh? i suppose it’s too much to hope that you’ve changed your mind about terrorizing monsters. you should pick up a better hobby if you’re bored. for instance, the librarby has some great books on _herbicide_ i think you should try.”

“Oh Sans~” The demonic flower batted his eyes as if innocent. “Little old me?  _I’m_ not the problem here. Don’t you ever get tired of being a _fat, lazy slob_?”

“hey _bud_ , don’t judge my lifestyle just because you don’t understand it,” Sans shrugged smoothly. “you won’t get anywhere trying to force your _stigma_ on me.”

“Heeheehee! Then tell me how your _own brother_ understands and accepts your so called _lifestyle_.” Sans didn’t flinch at the stabbing words, but his eyesockets went dark and he could feel his SOUL pulse in pain. It resonated, whether he wanted to deny the manipulative little creep or not. Which, incidentally, was probably what Flowey was going for. “Oh wait, my mistake! He thinks you’re a _fat, lazy slob_ too!” He cackled maniacally, roots wriggling beneath him. 

Sans reacted a split second too late. The ground beneath him cracked up and shot up roots to ensnare- he got to keep his tibia free from capture, but at the cost of throwing himself face-first into the ground ahead. Flowey laughed even harder as he picked clumps of grass and dirt clods out of his nasal cavity feverishly. Bones speared the space in lightning-fast retaliation, San’s eye glowing ominously and frighteningly bright, filled with power but still taking his time to pick himself back up sluggishly. The flower had disappeared as usual beneath his strike, his awful voice still laughing from within the ruins.

“Don’t forget, Sans! _The bigger you are, the harder you fall_!”

When he was sure he was alone again, Sans hugged his squishy midsection to calm down the surging magic, bones rattling with a hot flushed face as he tried so hard not to leak. He would never know when the flower was watching, he couldn’t demonstrate his feelings. Not here, not ever.

( ** _But Flowey was right_**.)


	3. Crossroads, onion ring mayhem and caramel apple cheesecake utopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is the day we reach the crux of the storyline and it is HELLA LONG AUGH. you can expect a lot of plot, a trip to Grillby’s (though no alcohol), and Toriel finally enters the picture. Internal turmoil in the non-belly sense, borderline anxiety attack, and general angst warning. May I also note that the feeding is the secondary note of this chapter, unfortunately, but I highly encourage reading it so you can understand what is going on, going forward.

Showing up late for brunch was a good call. Grillby’s was hopping with early lunch goers, and the blazing bartender was super preoccupied with them. Sans sighed a little huff, relieved that he wasn’t going to have to sit under his expectant stare, and strolled along to one of the booths on the right. He was in aloof mode - casually eyeing his friends, huddled up and chatting loudly, with his hands jammed in his pockets.

“phe _eee_ ew, you guys sure are noisy. it’s enough to _wake the dead_.” Sans feigned a yawn and brought his hand up to his mouth for effect. Matthew, Sal, and Robin looked up at his interjection and laughed, and Robin scooted left to let Sans in.

“Eyy, look who finally showed up! You just missed Funk and Doggo.“

“See, I told you he probably fell asleep!” 

“nah, you’re still mistaken. i never sleep on the job. i work myself to the _bone_ in _dream_ land.” Another round of laughter. Sans was already feeling better. His friends were easy to please and smiles were contagious. The only challenge was keeping them _real_.

“Bernard’s been going around talking about how the cooking class is a move to placate the masses. You’re like, her assistant, right Sans? So, is she making some kind of play here…?” Well, that was a fast decline into shitty, day-to-day happenings. He never stopped smiling, but his eyesockets narrowed slightly in annoyance more than real anger.

“c’mon, really? everyone knows toriel started that class after undyne nearly blew up alphys’ lab making a home cooked meal. that bear is so full of shit, no wonder they gave him his own brand of ass wipes above ground.” Robin and Sal burst into hysterics while Matthew looked moderately confused.

“Huh, what about above ground? Are you serious?”

“I-I forgot, you were out at the dentist that day! Well, Sans was diggin’ round the dump for some choice stuff, a-and– and _he found Bernard_!”

“He- _found_ him? Like, hanging out in the trash?”

“no, no,” Sans drawled, closing his eyesockets with a shrug. “there was this soaked flyer of a bear, _just_ like him, wiping its butt in front of a human kid. promise.” Matthew’s jaw dropped, looking at Robin across from him for confirmation.

“Holy…! D-Did you show Bernard?” Sans’ grin twisted into a smirk. “You DIDN’T-!! Oh my-”

“yeah. he thought it was pretty em- _bear-ass-_ ing.” Nailed it. He opened his eyesockets with a smug look, joy trickling in at watching them crack up. Just as he was feeling more into his groove, the soft clinking of tableware being set down across from him drew the pinprick lights up to a bright burning head, and he froze. ( _No, why is…_ ) Sans was _so sure_ they would have eaten ahead of his arrival, especially by _now_!

“Ahh, great, I thought I was going to starve!” Sal tugged his plate of grilled cheese sandwich closer, the edges of the crust browned nicely and spilling out thick, yellow cheese. He could smell pickle in there too, freshly cut, and it made Sans fidget in his seat and clutch at the fabric of his hoodie. ( _Stop acting like a child, you’re still full from the doughnuts._ ) He trained his sight pointedly away from Matthew and Robin sitting at his left to spare himself from Grillby’s beautiful presentation… but it only led him right to Grillby himself on the right, who hesitated after laying down the meal to wait for Sans’ order.

Sans inhaled sharply through his clenched teeth, the cool air hitting his already conjured tongue. Flowey’s words haunted him. ( _You **can’t** do this again._ ) A mantra following, singing through his skull about letting Papyrus down. Imprinting that sad look in his little brother’s eyesockets in the forefront of his mind, he struggled to find the courage to break this silence. Sans mumbled an unconvincing and pathetic, “m’good. thanks grillbz,” and hoped that saying the words out loud would magically make them true.

Grillby didn’t move. Sans did in response to the heated look, squirming uncomfortably then laughing over the growl of his stomach trying to intervene. ( _Don’t you whine now, you’re not even hungry!_ ) He started preparing a moving speech about family and respecting boundaries, figuring in advance they’d never buy this. His phalanges scraped into the wood underside of the table, his stomach’s magic doing somersaults in response to his high tension. Finally prying his locked jaw open to speak, Sans looked up and saw the flamesman had already left his position to serve another patron.

The intense guilt didn’t leave with him. The world around Sans remained in blurred focus, under a haze of frying oils assaulting his nasal cavity. His friends were talking about their meals and something about waiting for Sans before they ate, but the sound of their voices blended with the noise of the restaurant as a whole.

He was victorious in fighting off his meal, but he felt no better for it. His stomach, his extension of himself, clenched and clawed, a dull, lingering pain radiating out until it reached his spine. Sans brushed his sleeve against his sweating skull, trying to think hard about Papyrus sitting there and encouraging him. ( _Your brother has no problem managing it, and he’s actually spending energy. Why isn’t this easier?_ ) It’ll get easier, after all, doing nothing was his self-proclaimed specialty. _Not_ eating should be lazier than stuffing his face all day, right? Grillby would learn to understand. His friends would understand.

Now they were all staring at him too.

Sans jolted upright, sweating profusely as he dragged himself back to reality only to sink in his seat. “uh? heheh… sup?”

“You alright, Sans?” Robin asked in a softer voice. He appeared as uncomfortable as Sans felt, and clearly he had no ill intentions in putting the skeleton on the spot. Knowing that didn’t make it better. “You were spacing out pretty good there.” Was he? Sans’s grin remained plastered on his face but the light in his eyes dimmed, SOUL humming as he tried to tug words out of his fraying thoughts. The pain had coiled along his spine and touched his lower ribs by now.  

“yep. i’m good.” ( _You’re not good, you can’t even stop being a ‘fat, lazy slob’ for even a few hours._ ) He thought for a split second about leaving; if the pain in his side got much worse, he might actually hurl.

“I’ll tell you what isn’t good,” Sal began to mercifully move the spotlight off of the skeleton while taking a large bite out of his sandwich. “The girls around here! They’re all too uppity! They don’t give me even a little chance…” Their eyes left Sans and he exhaled deeply, immensely grateful for the distraction so he could get himself together. He smiled as always and nodded along to Sal’s complaining, sliding his hands into his pockets to secretly lay them on his midsection.

No wonder he felt on edge. Flowey’s bullshit had him too worked up… His magic was jumping all over the place, poised to strike. His tummy was the nucleus of this energy after being heavily stuffed with magic lately, so, slowly, as to not be caught, Sans began rubbing the warm and soft bubbling mess through his jacket. Not just to harness the feeling of his radiating magic through his bones, but also to take time and feel the soft, malleable sensation. It felt good, it _always_ felt good. The stress was beginning to melt off of him.

“maybe,” He enunciated slowly, fumbling blindly for his comfort zone as he eased himself back into the conversation, “you need some better _bait_ to _reel_ them in with.” It wasn’t one of his better jokes but Matthew chuckled. Sal sighed in dejection, shoving the last of his sandwich through his fat lips and taking a long drink of soda.

“He’s got a point, man. What fish wants to go near a hook? Not unless it had like, chocolate on it.”

“I don’t want them to bite it! I just want them to call me!”

Sans calmed, focusing on his friend’s dilemma. The anxiety had nearly slipped away through the cracks as suddenly as it came, allowing him to breathe easy. ( _Why did I even get so worked up in the first place?_ ) His friends were a bunch of goofballs. Flowey was a turd. Sans had nothing to worry about.

 

Somewhere in the transition between topics, the basket of onion rings sitting untouched beside Robin took on a blue hue and slid to the edge of the table in front of Sans. No one, not even him, had taken notice to the unusual use of magic. His hand reached out to pick one up and bite into it, the thick battered coating crunching away and the piquant, slick onion slice slipping out. Slurping it back up with ease, Sans popped the remainder of the fried shell into his mouth and grabbed the next, dipping it into the sauce. It was mildly spiced with a creamy texture, a perfect little tandem with the greasy but dry batter. His stomach tingled in bliss beneath his rubbing hand, growing warm beneath his touch as Sans took in more. He ate on autopilot, relaxed, thinking about his friend’s struggles in getting a date and how there might _not_ really be ‘more fish in the sea’. Down here, someone new coming into your life was a really rare experience - he supposed that was what made the kiddo and Toriel so special.

Sans leaned in to playfully jab at his friend when it dawned on him that he had something in his mouth already dissolving into magic, his alarm forcing it down heavily with a pocket of air. "hk!,” it came back as a loud hiccup. The oily, crisp taste lingered in his mouth, eyelights drilling down into the basket in front of him with an empty, greasy liner inside.

Absolutely mortified, Sans pushed the basket away from himself suddenly. When did he start eating? His stomach pinched, indigestion rising up again from his shattered nerves. “i’m sorry,” Sans amended quickly and flushed blue when his friend’s gaze fell on his outburst. ( _No wonder Papyrus feels humiliated by me…_ )

Matthew barked out a howling laugh, prompting the dogs within the restaurant to begin howling instinctively. “Wow, nice heist, Sans!”

“Grillby is taking quite a while with your order. Did you order two of everything on the menu?” They all laughed, except Sans. He sat stock still, his humorless smile the only thing keeping his fragile composure together. That, and his phalanges digging painfully into his fleshy gut, riding out the tsunami of self loathing and humiliation.

“Nah, it’s okay, bones! No sweat.” Robin chirped, rubbed Sans’ sticky wet skull with his feathers in an affectionate and reassuring way. “You need it more than I do anyway, hahaha. It’s on me.”

Sans’ initial confusion shifted gears into panic all too quickly, the whiplash leaking through his composure and summoning a bone to skewer the plush booth seat directly behind him. He quivered and gripped harder for control, eyelights scanning hastily for something horrible and finding nothing but Grillby’s direct gaze simmering on him. It was enough indication he _hadn’t_ just attacked another patron inadvertently; only causing minor property damage was a small blessing, but he was still unraveling inside.

Sans’ eyelights shone wildly as he craned his neck back to the red bird on his left. He needed it more? It was on him? “since when,” he inquired, voice intense and grave, smile drawn tight. Robin was a cheapskate, there was _no way_ this was some free lunch.

“Uh, since you’re gathering up magic to break the barrier,” He replied, feeling pressure under Sans’ glare. “Whenever you started doing that though, I don’t know.” What? Sans chuckled and leaned back, looking at Matthew and Sal’s faces to read something more out of the other two.

“c'mon, who’s the comedian here? heh. don’t quit your day job there, pal.”

The three of them looked on in a cocktail of concern and confusion, entirely serious. Sans sat there beside himself, eyelights disappearing into darkness as realization dawned. They _really believed_ he was going to break the barrier by _stuffing his face_?

“ _wow…_ you know what, you win this time, guys. i’m completely speechless.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Matthew beamed in a toothy grin. “You’re outrageous, Sans!” Sal and Robin loosened up too, much to Sans’ chagrin.

“Outrageous? I think it’s a bit more like ‘crazy genius’!”

“Bless ol’ Asgore’s soul, he’d probably have knighted funny bones here for-”

“ _ **stop** ,_” Sans growled out and they quieted once more. “i’m not breaking the barrier by _eating_. it’s not remotely possible. i thought you guys could take a damn joke.”

“Well,” Robin mulled, straightening out a few loose feathers along his elbow. “I kind of thought that too, you know? But Daisy said last night that no one’s ever had a stomach like yours for soaking up magic. Remember when we tried having an eating contest and everyone passed out from just trying to absorb more magic?” Though it was an accurate representation of his ability, Sans’ hard stares didn’t waver.

“we tried blasting through the barrier with the CORE, that was what it was _originally_ engineered for. after it failed, we just laid some foundation to power new home and the other towns,” Sans snapped back, bitterly. “this whole concept is absurd. there’s no way i could harvest that much energy. stop deluding yourselves.”

“…But it’s not like we have anything else to hope for,” Sal mumbled despondently.   

“do i look like undyne? _don’t put those hopes on me_ ,” Sans spat back with a surprising amount of venom, standing up to storm out. He was done with this malarkey.

“Wait, Sans-”

But he was already gone.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t have anyone else to blame but himself. That was normal. He could spend a  good couple weeks doing nothing but talking depreciatively and laying around like a useless and pathetic lump of snow. The self portrait he made just outside town came to mind, and he felt absolutely no different from how it appeared most days. Tired, and too empty to feel or do anything inspiring. He’d settle for just _being_.

Now, anger wasn’t normal for Sans. That was supposed to be reserved for situations where he couldn’t afford to be apathetic anymore. He was supposed to only feel anger after sitting in a heap and clawing at his SOUL for something, anything, to drive out the maddening desperation and darkness closing in like a curtain. Shadows in his mind bearing red eyes and pouring acid over every facet of his life with a smile. He could no longer recall _when_ he had ever felt that way… But it certainly had something to do with Papyrus.

Somehow, he skipped through all of that at full speed and he was hot with anger, hands and eyes alight in a blaze of blue magic, sweating and shaking and screaming. The outburst was irrational, but consumed him anyway, and he directed his thoughts at everything he felt. He was mad that he was _allowing_ himself to lose control after spending years trapped without it. He was mad that Flowey was right, that he was fat and pathetic and _nobody_ , not even his brother, _would ever understand_. He was mad that he gave his friends false hope with a really bad joke, and mad he was so far gone down this path of disgusting behavior that he would even steal food. Especially, he was mad that he proposed that something as selfish as engorging himself could be made out for some greater good. As if all of their world’s struggles - his research with Dr. Gaster back in the day, Papyrus’ heavy-handed enthusiasm, Alphys’ terror-inducing experiments with DETERMINATION and Undyne’s years of training, even Asgore’s death and Toriel’s grief- _like all of it could have been fixed by something as **stupid** and **selfish** and **wasteful** as overeating_.

Like Sans could do _anything good_ if he tried to do _anything at all_.

Hell, he was even mad that he was standing there, striking the barrier with gaster blasters and a myriad of bones. How pathetic he was, not to strike with intent but because he wanted to unload this magic and this rage and _get on with his life of drifting aimlessly_. He had no right to be here. ( _You don’t deserve Papyrus._ )

Least he knew he couldn’t hurt anyone like this.

The lack of a moving target was great because his magic was haphazard in his emotional state, lines of bones impaling and fracturing lines of bones. Slamming them over and over, each femur upon the other, stabbing collectively into the unrelenting silvery wall. Sans relished the sickening cracks they made before disintegrating. He wanted to imagine he’d make the same sounds before he died. It felt satisfying. Swiftly, he swung his arm and five glowing skulls appeared, simultaneously blasting his unadulterated magic at a single point on the energy field. The force of the recoil was enough to throw him off his feet, and he skidded back on his side. Sans turned over to lay on his back and pant for cool air, and the contact against his SOUL made him shudder from inside and out. The longer he laid, the more dizzy, sore, and weak he felt, until the remaining magic boiling over inside him drained out entirely. He gave up, releasing a tremendous sigh. The pulsing of the barrier carried him off to a restless sleep, immersed in his negative thoughts.

 

“Sans?” Her voice reached into his skull and gently tugged him back awake. He still didn’t open his eyesockets, trying harder to force them to stay shut. If she found him like this… Then she’d know what he’d done.

“yeah?” His bones rumbled and he focused on his breathing. In the air around him, the questions she was bound to be asking lingered. They had known each other first verbally, and then nonverbally, through a barrier much like the human-made one before them. Like this, he only needed to feel her inquiry to know it, and he chose to ignore it, hiding his spiteful and childish outburst with a great degree of guilt. Still, for what keeping secrets was worth, he murmured a hushed, “sorry.”

She didn’t bother with platitudes like “its okay” or “don’t be sorry”. Sans was immensely grateful for it. Toriel hung in silence before he felt her sit beside his prone form, laying a paw on his forehead.

“I never knew you were so strong.” Her fur stuck to his sweaty skull, but she didn’t opt to move it. “I hope they’re not pressuring you because of me. I want so badly to find a solution to this barrier too, but I haven’t had a single idea yet…”

“neither does anyone else, tori.” He smiled naturally this time, opening his eye sockets to look at her soft gaze. The last of his bitterness disappeared in her calm and worried face.  “this… this all, just now. it ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” At least, that was the damn truth. He stared unwavering at her and she nodded with acceptance of his words, smearing her paw across his forehead. Amusement returned to her eyes, looking down at him.

“Clearly I need to invest in getting you a towel.”

“cool. i’ll call it tow-riel.” She giggled and he felt encouraged, winking. “if that- _s’weat_ i get for causing such a ruckus, then i guess i should con _sweater_ myself lucky.”

They laughed together, just the two of them in this void-like place between worlds. He felt relieved to have her here after everything, but he was still too exhausted to get up. He didn’t even try. Sans drifted back into the edge of sleep, the heaviness in his eyesockets stirred by the sound of her sudden surprise.

“Sans…!” What now? She was staring at something. He managed to lift his head but the rest of his spine wouldn’t budge forward, so he rolled his skull to the side to nuzzle her knee. Toriel picked up on his predicament and slid him up to rest on her lap. She was always so soft and warm and just the right amount of squishy- it wasn’t like he was picked up or hugged daily, but when he was, he couldn’t get out of his head how absolutely _perfect_ she felt. “Do you see it? That little bone, right there!” Sans blinked again, diverting his attention from the distraction and staring ahead.

Wedged in and held there, a small sliver of bone remained behind in the wake of his tantrum. It was about a quarter of the size of his distal phalange, splintered down to a sharp point. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

But, how? His magic was dissipated by now. A new wave of energy rising in his bones, Sans leaned away from Toriel’s support and raised a hand out to it, trying to reach for it with his blue magic. Nothing, not even the slightest grab. The piece was thoroughly embedded into the humans’ barrier.

_And he did that._

Toriel’s joy was unprecedented. She wrapped her arms around his midsection, lifted him and spun, dress flaring behind her. She was so overjoyed with their discovery, her laughter echoing through the hall. She laughed and laughed until nasally, ungraceful snorting took hold, then she laughed more. He couldn’t remember _ever_ seeing her so happy before. Sans was sure he could melt in her arms, face flushing hot blue as his magic pooled in his skull. “You’re amazing! How did you even manage it?”

Her voice grew distant against the sound of his own SOUL resting against hers, both fluttering in happiness. He nuzzled his face into the royal seal of her dress as he tried to tiredly cling. Sans only mumbled incoherently about Grillby’s before slipping away into slumber. Toriel wouldn’t disturb him.

 

* * *

 

He swore it was a dream when he awoke. Sans laid in the dark room, bundled up in a blanket with a soft pillow supporting his head. His clothes clung to him from the sticky sweat, but he could tell the linens were clean and smelled as fresh as a breeze from the Ruins.

Definitely not home.

Shifting and rolling his shoulders forward, he sighed and tried to return to sleep. His bones ached, he was still so tired. He felt sure it was fine to be here, wherever this was. It wasn’t like he hijacked someone’s bed because he could honestly sleep just about anywhere and in any position. Sans was not a bed thief. Not like with those onion rings he hijacked at the restaurant…

Aw damn, that actually happened, didn’t it? It seemed too vivid to be a dream, Sans reckoned, and something about his sleeping arrangement had a distinctly Toriel flair to it.

The barrier… How _did_ he do it? He was in such a fit, he hadn’t really paid much attention. Though he spread the attack patterns out over a wide area, the spot where the bone was… No, there was a pattern, wasn’t there?   
He needed to write this down.

Feeling restless out of the blue, Sans disentangled himself and slid his legs over the side of the bed, hopping off… And standing there without having to recheck his center of gravity. His lovely, round, pudgy magic tummy wasn’t there. Yanking his sweater up instinctively, he breathed a tremendous sigh of relief to find- yes, it WAS still there, but just small and empty looking. He really had poured a lot of magic into attacking that barrier, huh? Sans shook it with the flat of his boney palm and it barely wibbled. Sad.

The door clicked and he tugged the garment down quickly, looking up at the light outlining Toriel’s silhouette. “hey.”

“Oh! Did you sleep well?”

“just short of twenty _winks_.” He gave her the wink and she chuckled at his charm. “do you have any scrap paper i can write with?”

“To write? Yes, probably in the dining area.” She escorted him down the hall, offering a seat in the elegant wood-carved chair and some writing instruments. He knew where to go, really, but he didn’t want to be rude after she scraped him off the ground and brought him inside her castle home. Sans quickly made shoddy diagrams of angles and geometric shapes, writing out estimates and variables. The paper was overcome in short order and he flipped it over to continue on the back. Yes, the crossover point between all of these vectors was exactly where the bone sliver was found! Which meant…

The barrier held most firmly against a single point of momentum. A single linear, concentrated force applied, like the CORE experiment, wouldn’t break it. They needed to create a field of localized magic - surely, they had all tried that before when the barrier first impeded them, right? That’s right… they still needed force. Most of the bones he attacked with had hit each other, splitting like arrows fired at the same spot.

If the final splitting shot in the overlay point was backed with the power of the CORE…

That could do it. That surely had the best chance of reproducing this shard. His writing was getting more unintelligible as his bones shook, feverish with the weight of this discovery. Plenty of monsters were capable of making the wide span of strikes _leading up_ to the overlay point shots, but…

They needed something that would deliver that concentrated power _before_ the CORE would strike it.

Sans set the pen down and stared pensively at his notes, scratching his skull. Toriel wandered in after a few minutes of solitude, resting a hearty slice of pie to his right and sitting beside him. “What have you got?”

“uh… well, a lot more answers than before?” His gaze lifted to the offering before him and he didn’t hesitate in the slightest, sliding the plate closer and cutting out a portion with his fork. “thanks tori, this from the class?”

“No, I cancelled it today.” Sans looked penitent, sensing from her close hovering that it had _something_ to do with him.

“sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sans. What happened today is _far_ more important.” Her eyes were still glimmering. He could feel his skull warm again at the sight, but the dessert’s proximity was making his empty magical sack whine. Without any more delay, he bit into it and moaned from the immediate flood of pleasure. How did she make _every_ pie taste so damn good?! He heard a giggle come from her way, but he couldn’t pry himself away from shoveling the next forkful into his watering mouth.

This wasn’t just an apple pie, Toriel had this knack of never resting on her laurels by sticking to the ordinary classics. It probably came with her many years of solitude, but she combined dishes and improved them, even the ones that didn’t seem possible to improve upon. This was a masterful pie, he thought, as his tongue rolled the bites around in his mouth to relish the variations in texture. Warm and gooey caramel with chopped pecans layered between caramelized, cinnamon dusted apple filling and graham cracker crust- _then_ there was cheesecake on top of _that_. It was finished with a fluffy, sweet whipped cream and drizzled in _more_ caramel and pecan. The flavors combined with perfect synergy. It was the kind of experience which made all other delicious meals look grey and lifeless by comparison.

Sans crammed down the slice in bursts, switching between being lost in a dreamy paradise with the fork in his mouth, and lunging to get the next bite like a predator. Once finished, he kept the spotless fork in anyway as if to hold on to the fleeting experience.

“mmmh! thanksh tori, fis wash sho good-” He mumbled around the metal and sighed, blinking his eyesockets lazily then staring wide-eyed in disbelief as another heaping slice almost magically appeared on his plate. Sans whipped his head around to face her, a little surprised that she had left and returned so quickly. Toriel sat back into her seat and slid the pie server back under the large pie– okay, maybe less ‘large’ and more ‘massive’, that thing had to be fourteen inches!

Sans bit down on the fork in his mouth hard, the metal vibrating at the end with an odd twanging sound. She burst out laughing at this, snorting “I- I think your _tuning fork_ is telling us something.”

“yeah,” he mumbled breathlessly, drawing his utensil back and poised for another helping. “it says this really _resonates_ with me.” The second slice was just as good, though the whipped cream was starting to sag a little from the heat.

“Well then, I suppose I shouldn’t _interfere_ with such a nice _tune._ ”

“nonsense, i could dine at your _frequency_ all day,” He retorted with a wink, perfectly timed between forkfuls of the apple cheesecake pie. “in fact, i’d say it’s a _pie_ -ce of _cake_.” They were both having a good time, punning and joking around as Sans filled his gut with her dessert. The second slice was history, and the third was on its way. Toriel was already starting to cut into the fourth before he had even swallowed the last bite of sticky graham crust. Was she giving him this whole pie?

Having a couple slices was fine because his stomach had flattened out, but burning through that gigantic pie would set him back on his promise to Papyrus. Would it be rude to tell the Queen he didn’t want any more, though? Especially if he really _did_ want more? Sans watched her slide the indulgent pie onto his plate, and wading once again through a quagmire of questions of propriety. Whip-sharp as she was, Toriel caught on immediately, though she seemed a little lost on how to react to his hesitation. 

“I’m so sorry, did you- not want any more?” He wasn’t going to get to dupe her about his predicament like his friends… not that he did a stellar job on that today either. Sans swallowed hard and laid his palms on his stomach, feeling the adorable crackle-popping of magic reacting to the pecans and apple.

“no no, that’s uh, a really _apple_ lling offer, tori. heh. i just don’t think i… should?” There, that wasn’t insulting, right? He sweat bullets with a plastered grin, quietly digging his phalanges into his fleshy organ to threaten its cooperation on the matter.

She frowned. He winced inwardly.

“Sans…” Her voice dipped away from the jovial and melodic tone of their earlier back and forth, returning to a firm mother, the steadfast Queen of the Underground. “I think you deserve it and that you should treat yourself. Why wouldn’t you? You made such a monumental discovery today.” Toriel smiled softly and reached a paw out to lay on his shoulder reassuringly. His SOUL was swimming, and his skull was practically glowing from the heat of his pooling magic. And then— “Dare I say, it’s _pie_ fectly acceptable!”

Sans thought he was going to bust his gut laughing as he wheezed and doubled over. “i-i–i  guess i’m gonna– i’m gonna have to _crust_ you on this one!”

He cut into the fourth piece, thankful for Toriel and everything wonderful she filled him with.

 

 

It was _a lot_ of pie to handle. Sans kept glancing over and feeling surprised he wasn’t further along. He had slowed down a bit to seem more conservative in front of her, plus he was _really_ enjoying the chance to savor every morsel. Toriel had fetched a tall glass of iced tea for them both, and pulled her chair over so he could go over his evaluation of the barrier impalement. In her defense, she tried really hard to understand.

“Your other bones were putting stress on the barrier, and then this kinetic bone was forced in?”

“well, the bone isn’t _called_ that, it’s the type of force that was applied after the impact of the second wave of bones. the momentum is ultimately what drove it in while the magical force was being compounded. in a sense, think of it like a hammer and a nail.” He licked the cheesecake off his fork then the rest of the apple and crust filling, amused with her concentration on his vector equations. “heh, nevermind. don’t sweat the details, it’s a bit _radical_.”

“Dr. Alphys would understand though, right?”

“yeah. we’ll try to reproduce it first to make sure my theory isn’t _imaginary_.” Toriel didn’t catch these jokes, but it was fine. Nobody else did anymore, aside from the Doc herself. Toriel looked up with a smile as he finished his slice and cut the last of the pie in two.

“Ready for more?” Sans looked down at his pulled-over sweater, forming a heavy, familiar curve in front of him, and gave the thick plush a gauging squeeze. That cheesecake was a lot more spongy in his tummy than squishy, thick and warm like fresh dough, and very heavy. He was actually surprised with how much room he felt he had left, not feeling too blown up at all. Maybe he was adapting his stomach to contain magic in higher concentration? That might be a good middle ground to meet Papyrus with.

After his nod of approval, she delivered the next slice. As if summoned by the thought, loud, approaching footsteps echoed in the hallways, and Sans knew by the familiar pace that it could only be his brother. His joints locked up and he glanced nervously down at the enticing treat in front of him, and then back up at Toriel.

“YOUR HIGHNESS,” Papyrus called out ahead of his arrival. “I APOLOGIZE FOR MY TARDINESS! UNDYNE GAVE ME THE CLASS CANCELLATION SUPLEX AND I HAD TO FIX THE FRONT ENTRANCE TOPIARY! NOW IT’S EVEN GREENER THAN BEFORE, NYEH HEH HEH!”

“That’s wonderful, Papyrus,” She beamed. “And we have great news for you, too–”

“yeah, tori made this killer pie,” Sans interjected hastily and tugged on the hem of her sleeve. The Queen stared down at him quizzically but did not object further at the moment. “as head of the royal guard, i think you need to save me from it, bro.”

“SIGH,” he enunciated out loud. The voice drew closer as Papyrus figured out which room they were in and turned the door handle. “THAT SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT. SANS, WHAT DID YOU DO NOW?” 

Sans used this time to lean in close to Toriel and whisper, “please don’t tell anyone about the barrier stuff today?” Her expression gave away just how much she disagreed, so he hastily added. “i’m not ready to explain anything.” Thank goodness she saw it his way; her eyes softened and she bobbed her head in silent agreement. Papyrus’ usual grand entrance seemed a bit reserved, a cloud of concern hovering over him as he saw Sans sitting there. It immediately dissipated and he sauntered up to the table, now beaming.

“WOWIE, I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A CRIME SCENE BUT I SEE YOU HAVE TAKEN CONTROL OF THE SITUATION! THANK YOU FOR TAKING YOUR DIET SERIOUSLY, BROTHER! I AM VERY IMPRESSED!”

Sans grinned so forcefully he thought he might crack a molar. “yep,” was all he could muster as guilt weighed heavier on his midsection. He suddenly felt bloated and uncomfortable with everything he had been shoving into his face. At least Papyrus couldn’t tell the difference, or he looked less engorged than he had this morning.

Toriel hadn’t pried her studying look off of his sweating skull once. He _really_ wished she wouldn’t do that right now.

“QUEEN TORIEL, HOW COME YOU CANCELED CLASS IF YOU STILL BAKED SOMETHING?” Papyrus inquired, somewhere between consciously and unconsciously ignorant of their uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry, Papyrus,” She broke the contact to the delight of both skeletons, smiling up at him now and moving tableware to slip the last piece of pie from its pan to another new plate. “But I had to check up on a friend. I was worried for them. Do you want a slice?”

“THANK YOU! I WILL CHERISH THIS GIFT NO DIFFERENTLY THAN IF IT WAS A FINE ARTISAN’S SPAGHETTI!” The plate passed hands, and Sans sank lower in his seat, his own untouched slice taunting him and his skull flushing warm at the indirect comments. Papyrus waited to try his pie, asking a touch more delicately, “IS YOUR FRIEND OKAY?”

“I believe they will be.”

“WELL, IF THEY ARE EVER IN NEED OF MORE CHEERING, LET ME KNOW! I AM NOT ONLY A SUPER COOL SKELETON GUARD AND HEDGE EXPERT, BUT ALSO A MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKER! WE CAN GET THEIR BONES MOVING TO LOOK GOOD, FEEL GOOD, AND BE GOOD IN NO TIME!”

( _Except an object in motion stays in motion, and an object at rest stays at rest. I guess my inertia is just as big as my waistline ‘sall._ ) This was why he stopped caring to begin with. It was too much work. Sans felt exhausted just thinking about trying to take care of himself. It was pretty pathetic that he can’t even do that for Papyrus’ sake, never mind for his own self preservation.

“DID YOU TRY THIS, BROTHER? IT IS REALLY REMARKABLE!” He looked up and his eyelights brightened once more, watching Papyrus try the pie with a look of bliss. Guess he wasn’t the only one who felt this way about Toriel’s work. It warmed his SOUL to see.

“yeah, didn’t you know tori had a couple degrees in baking?” He paused for effect, soaking up their confusion, then winked. “several _hundred_ of them in fact.” It didn’t dawn on his little brother until Toriel cracked, whipping her head back in a holler of delight. Annoyance began to creep into the edges of Papyrus’ set jaw, and Sans tucked both radius bones behind his skull, preparing to unleash the onslaught. The jokes settled his nerves back into a familiar routine. “what’s wrong, bro? you seem a bit out of your _element_.”

“SANS, STOP.”

“sorry, that kind of control is out of my _mittens_. it’s _timed_ to _rise_ to the occasion and _turn up the heat_.”

“AUGH! YOUR HIGHNESS, WHY DO YOU EVEN THINK THIS IS FUNNY?”

“you should calm down before you _boil_ over. its the _yeast_ you can do.”

“NYEEEHHH!” Him and Toriel laughed along as Papyrus tried his absolute best to eat his pie in peace. A reminder buzz came from his brother’s phone, he pulled it out and eyesockets sparkled in joy. “OH! SANS, WE NEED TO GO, MTT LIVE TONIGHT STARTS IN AN HOUR!”

“ok.”

“Oh Papyrus, are you going to see the show?”

“NO, NOT YET. SOMEDAY THOUGH! BUT FOR NOW, I HAVE TO PICK OUT THE PERFECT OUTFIT IN CASE METTATON TAKES MY CALL! I’M A VERY FASHIONABLE SKELETON, EVEN WHEN ON THE PHONE!”

“Heheh, I’m sure you are.” Toriel stood up from her seat, picking up the empty plates stacked as well as Sans’ unfinished slice. “Here, I’ll wrap that up for you to go, Sans.” He blinked out of his daze, looking down and squinting. It really wouldn’t be hard to finish, but after the stressful day he’s had, from Flowey at the Ruins to his anxieties at Grillby’s, Sans didn’t think he should push it. Especially not in front of Papyrus. His mildly discomforted stomach churned and bubbled in agreement, and he nodded at her.

“thanks, tori.”


	4. Lazy Karma, a butter crisis and precious cinnamon bun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff to temporarily relieve you of drama and plot~

_Ughhhh._

He stirred, blank eyesockets staring at the single damp spot on his ceiling where a leak, that he’d done nothing to fix, had been forming for a while. There was no good reason to be awake at this hour. No reflected light even peeked through his window from the underground. He was only awake because a stabbing pain shot through him, leaving him no choice but to wake up and groan in misery.

Sans knew deep down he should have tried to press Papyrus for an _actual_ dinner. They watched the MTT broadcast together, then followed up with old, washed-up human movies through the evening. Sure, it was great to spend time with his brother, but half a bag of popato chisps and a bowl of popcorn was the very definition of “unsatisfying”.

But _noooo,_ he had to try and cut back for this diet idea Papyrus was fixated on. Well, now he was taking the heat for that decision.

##  **RRHHMMRRRBLLL**

His energy sack rumbled like a bulldozer, tossing against the walls of his magic as if they were concrete debris. It was as loud as it was uncomfortable. Sans moaned again and yanked his shirt off over his skull, pressing his phalanges into the blue glow. As empty as it was, he still had his slightly plump shape, no doubt the lingering damage of Toriel’s pie. Despite how achy it felt, he couldn’t help but smile at it affectionately.

##  **GGRRRRRRGGGLLLLH**

“ok, i get it,” Sans sighed, rolling off to his right and literally fell over the side of the bed- to land on the couch downstairs. Damn did he love that shortcut. He grinned, pleased with himself. He got up as quietly as he could so as to not disturb his brother and shuffled into the kitchen. Lights on, Papyrus-height cabinet opened… And nothing but that annoying dog inside. It looked up at Sans sleepily, and he made a shh-ing motion while closing the door. 

##  **MMMRUUUURRGLLLHHH**

Ohhh man, he couldn’t think while he was sleepy AND hungry. This was literally the worst. What else did they have… Wait a minute, the pie! He still had a piece of that left over! Beaming in glee, Sans whipped the fridge door open with his magic and procured the chilled pie. He wasted no time, plopping himself down on the cold tile and eating the slice by hand. It was still so fresh, bless that woman… The apples crunched, crisp from the cold air but still juicy. He had to chew a little more deliberately, what with it being drenched in so much caramel, but it was delicious nonetheless. The heavenly cheesecake was even better cold, thicker and with more flavor.

Toriel wasn’t a Queen, she was a Saint. Some divine figure of all things culinary. Angel of the starving. Sans leaned back once he finished scarfing down his late night snack and licked between his bones to make sure not a single crumb escaped him, and licked the plate after that, just for good measure.

The vengeful haunting of his ghostly organ had subsided in a peaceful lull… But he still felt quite hungry, knowing this offering wasn’t going to be enough. Dinner was usually so big, between just overdoing it at Grillby’s or Papyrus’ enthusiasm for pasta, plus whatever leftovers were hanging around from the cooking class. 

Sans eyed the empty fridge in front of him and began to sweat. Drawer after drawer he opened, realization dawning– _he had made a huge tactical error._ Papyrus told him two days ago to go shopping and, like most chores, he blew it off to go watch Glyde get their tongue stuck to that Ice Cap kid’s hat in an epic dare, then went to nap in a particularly comfy snowbank. 

And of course, at this hour, everything was going to be closed in the Underground. The empty shelves taunted him for his laziness, containing only a couple of olives left in a jar (he popped them down), a small amount of milk left on the edge of curdling (he threw it back and shivered in disgust, but got by the momentary assault on his taste buds), and the industrial sized butter they got for all of Sans’ frying needs.

He stared at the thick, bright yellow block intently then closed the door. No, he was not desperate enough to eat butter. There _had_ to be something else. Diving back into the cabinets, he found only that the dog was shedding a lot of hair lately, and probably needed to be groomed. Sans felt a little humiliated that he only realized it _after_ putting the clump of fur in his mouth.

Nothing. Nada. Nope. Zilch. Zip. God, when did they even get through that mayonnaise– oh yeah, Papyrus’ Christmas potato salad. That was actually really good, definitely one of his best side dishes. Sans’ mouth began to drip and he retreated to his room.

Plan B! Emergency ketchup stores. Well, they weren’t really an ‘emergency store’, he wasn’t THAT mindful. He just usually abandoned any of his packets or bottles that moved out of his immediate reach. Picking up stuff was a chore too.

Sans dug around in the drawers, peeked down the crack between the wall and his mattress, then around the unused treadmill. Everything was empty. That might also be why he let them go whichever way the ecosystem of his room saw fit. He sighed wearily, sat on the edge of his bed, and squinted at his self-sustaining trashnado.

Ah! There was a half-eaten hot cat and another bottle of ketchup! Sans moved closer to prepare for the rotation to move his target in place, snatching them up without disturbing the storm at all.

The hot cat was… Needless to say, kind of nasty. Covered in dirt and lint, but it tasted better than that milk so it couldn’t be bad. Sans swallowed the small morsel before throwing back his prized ketchup bottle… and sucking wind.

“fuck,” he cursed apathetically, tossing it back into the tornado. He threw himself back down on the bed, figuring if he wasn’t going to eat then he could at least try to sleep a bit more. He sighed, exhaustion seeping in again and bones sinking blissfully into his horrid, lumpy mattress. 

 

It was no time at all before he was awakened rudely, stomach gurgling softer but pining no differently than before. Sans clenched his eyesockets shut, rolling over to bury his skull under a pillow and drown out the cries.

_rrrghggrrrmmhh_

“please stop,” he groaned miserably. There was nothing left to do but suffer. It continued to growl, with varying intensity. _(You’re going to have to deal with this anyway, that’s what diets are for)_ , he reminded himself. Sans felt horrible like this. The thought of getting by feeling so empty, on a regular basis… His stomach pressed high and threatened his nerves with unloading the recently acquired, bizarre snacks. He swallowed down his conjured saliva with a hard gulp, then burped up a little bubble as he kneaded his aching tummy. It tasted as awful as he felt.

“papyyyruuus…” Sans had no intention of being heard, but it felt good to whine for his sweet, cool little bro. He sniveled, “i’m so hungryyy… i can’t do this…” He tossed, throwing off his sticky blanket, and hugged his midsection as best as he could and curled his metatarsals.

 _Nothing_ was making this better. He whimpered and imagined that butter again, sitting in the fridge innocently enough. It was probably really cool, which sounded appealing right about now, compared to the burning ache inside him. It _might_ be enough to last him until Muffet opened up shop… It’d be a hell of a lot better than laying here the whole time in misery. 

He made the decision in short order, and Sans was back in the kitchen in a blink. He yanked the fatty milk stick out and slammed the fridge door shut, sliding down against it as he peeled off the vellum wrapper. It smelled nice. Maybe it would be pretty good by itself. Hell, he loved everything he could make with the stuff, so eating it on its own couldn’t be that bad, right? He was in pain, and he was eating an industrial sized bar of butter because this was an emergency!

With his first bite, the skeleton realized it was not as soft as he expected. Usually it had time to sit out before being spread over toast or muffins, so he supposed that was just a miscalculation in his fried, craving state. And… It wasn’t so bad. It was strong, and clearly would have been better with some other addition like chocolate, sugar, salt, bacon, eggs, or _anything else…_  but it was tolerable. It melted away into magic with ease.

He looked back down at the butter in his hand and shrugged, biting into the next piece with more confidence. However, it took little time before the flavor became unpleasant. He cringed a few bites in and had to force it down. Yeugh. Was he really going to sit here and _eat all of this_? It was getting borderline disgusting.

Sans took a moment to sit and watch his glowing stomach glisten, bubbles popping up and gurgling happily. His SOUL fluttered in joy, and he dug a curious phalange into the tantalizingly soft pudge. Hmm, this was more squishy than earlier at the castle, bunching up into cute rolls and creases when smushed. Slowly, the butter returned to his mouth, and he chomped down on it with little enthusiasm. He almost wanted the actual experience of eating put out of his mind. Instead, he focused on his tummy, watching the subtle shifts of color and swirl as more butter loaded in. The oily compound gave it a weird, pearlescent sheen, swirling in his flowing magic. His tummy became its own satisfaction and he grinned and rubbed it gently, feeling it swell as he gnashed bigger bites from the lard. Eating out of habit was easy.

“heh, feel _better_ with _butter_ _bud_ dy?” He cooed, rubbing it up and down. The cute little bubble pockets coalesced and Sans felt his magic suddenly ripple up, making him belch loudly. He laughed deliriously after the large release, biting through the now softened butter stick and rolling it with his tongue. The massaging continued, his stomach inching forward under another pound of butter packed away inside. Sans was growing more excited that he still had more to go, despite how sloppy and greasy he was becoming as the butter melted. If anything, it made the rub down more luxurious, oily bones slipping over his hot, flesh-like tummy.

He should really eat this faster before he had to drink the stuff like a jello shooter. He crammed the butter into his mouth, his tongue slithering out to lap up more after he swallowed. Sans puffed some air, pinching a spot and burping again, the sensation relaxing and relieving. Another mouthful of butter, and he was almost sucking it out of the wrapper, sliding himself down the side of the fridge to lay with his back on the floor. It no longer mattered that the taste was horrible - he just wanted _more_. 

Purposefully Sans finished off the butter, slurping the greasy residue and tenderly testing his density with soft squeezes. He felt so good like this. If only there had been more, he could have gotten full, and imagine how big he’d be then! Dozing comfortably, he continued to stroke and rumble softly, eyesockets drifting shut.

 

_“SANS? SANS!”_

Papyrus’ stern voice violently ripped the smaller skeleton out of his nap and he jolted upright too suddenly. He slipped up and over on the butter, floundering like a fish out of water until he slammed back to the ground. It was lucky he didn’t get more air on the spin-over-flop, or else he could have been in serious trouble. Sans looked up wildly and swung backwards to re-stabilize.

“ _h **IC**_! P-Pap, I– _ **hic**_!”

But no one was there.

He sat and blinked, too confused to handle anything but staring at the empty kitchen and… yuck, this was so _greasy_. His belly tightened with another hiccup rippling through, the flavor of sinful, buttery indulgence creeping back into his mouth. It tasted even worse this way.

Maybe it was because he realized, with full clarity, how _absolutely pathetic_ he was laying here on the floor of his kitchen, in the middle of the night, desperately binging on _butter_. Sans shuddered, shaken but grateful that he hadn’t _actually_ heard Papyrus come along only to find him laying there stuffed like a fat fool. He shakily tried to pull himself up, finding it difficult between the lack of any handholds in reach, his hands being coated in a fine layer of greasy film, and hiccuping with his full body; magic from his stomach discharging into his bones rhythmically every few moments and the surge ripping through him. He hated triggering hiccups, it didn’t feel anything at all like burping.

“ _ **hic**_! c-c’mon, please give me a- _**hic**_ \- a break…” The next jolt forced his arms out in a flail, catching hold of the fridge door this time and using the momentum to heave himself up. He panted for cooler air between hiccups burning his ribs, then retreated, shuffling off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Later in the morning, Papyrus nearly had to drag Sans out of bed, admonishing him that he hadn’t gone to the store.

“we could just grab some waffles from grillbz, bro. it’s no big deal.”

“OF COURSE IT IS, ALL OF THAT GREASE IS A BAD INFLUENCE ON YOU! AND I’M NOT GOING DOWN THAT SLIPPERY SLOPE TOO.” Sans highly doubted Papyrus had the capacity to go the way of a Grillby regular if he even wanted to; Papyrus liked _making_ food way more than _eating_ it. Their hobbies worked out for both skeleton brothers most of the time, except when Sans pulled stunts like this and didn’t restock the kitchen.   
Or, you know, when Papyrus refused to cook for him at all.

Papyrus gently deterred him from walking out to Grillby’s anyway, scooping up the smaller skeleton. “I HAVE A GREAT IDEA! LET’S GET CINNAMON BUNNIES TOGETHER!” Sans made no objection, calling it a _swirl_ idea before taking a quick nap in his arms on the way there, tummy grumbling for breakfast against Papyrus’ ribcage. Ahh, hopefully he wouldn’t notice that…

They sat out front of the shop with their breakfast, Sans biting into the hot, doughy treat excitedly. It had a tight spiral of cinnamon and sugar glaze which hit the spot. It spread warmth through his gut, relaxing as a soothing hot bath.

Personally, he preferred Muffet’s baking any day, but in Snowdin, the cinnamon bunny was uncontested as the best hot treat. It was practically _made_ to be eaten along with nice cream, truly _à la mode_ , but sadly he knew Papyrus would never go for that. Sans settled for stuffing it into his teeth and being happy with it the way it was. The bunny face was piped on with a thicker icing that would have been far too sweet if there were more of it. It was fine as it was though. A touch of brown on the outside left the inside chewy and sticky, a smidgen underbaked, and very aromatic. The cinnamon bunny overall was lovely. Plus, it wasn’t solid butter!   
…Yeah, maybe he could forget that happened…

Sans closed his eyesockets, enjoying the novelty of eating a cinnamon bunny again. It just wasn’t in his daily routine to stop by the shop for anything, let alone for such a small snack. He knew Bonnie’s sister at the Inn made these every morning for their patrons too, but obviously he wasn’t exactly a patron of the Inn. Hardly anyone in Snowdin was, which was quite a problem for them since there hadn’t been many visitors lately… It reminded him how a couple weeks ago Grillby posted a notice that he was sharing resources to support the fellow business, and his new french toast and hash brown omelets would be sold exclusively at the Inn.

Sans had _begged_ Papyrus to let him stay overnight, Papyrus refused saying he couldn’t justify wasting money like that… but he suspected his brother was more troubled about the concept of Sans staying over _just_ to eat someone else’s breakfast instead of his own lovingly created meal. That _was_ kind of selfish of him, wasn’t it? Sans never asked again.

Papyrus picked at his own cinnamon bunny like a bird, tearing off pieces to bite. Of course, he always ate that way, but his thoughtful, silent stare was fixated somewhere else. Sans finished scarfing down the pastry and took note of his somber mood. He nudged his brother and tried to encourage a grin. “as nice as this is, it’s just not the same, right? sorry i dropped the ball there. i’ll pick up some groceries on the way home tonight.” Papyrus looked up, obviously losing hold of the troubling thought rolling about his skull to smile back.

“YOU ARE ALREADY FORGIVEN, BROTHER. NEXT TIME, I SHALL BE MORE DILIGENT IN REMINDING YOU! MAYBE I’LL PUT NOTES ON YOUR BREAKFAST SO IT’LL STICK, NYEH HEH HEH.”

“you’re going to give me _food for thought_? it sounds delicious, as long as i don’t have to ‘ _eat_ it and weep’,“ Sans winked. Papyrus crossed his arms with a pout, but it was clear he wasn’t truly bothered.

“MY MASTERFUL CRAFT HAS NO ROOM FOR TEARS IN IT! UNLESS THEY ARE TEARS OF JOY FROM WITNESSING PERFECTION!”

“not gonna lie, i might have sobbed into your spaghetti once or twice. it was that good.” They joked around about writing Sans messages in ketchup to get his attention as Papyrus continued to slowly consume his cinnamon bunny. Sans sighed a breath after laughing, waiting again for his brother to finish, when he saw someone bright orange walk past with their hands jammed into the pockets of their prim peacoat. Sans shifted to push himself more upright and waved halfheartedly, before dropping his hand back into his lap, deciding mid-motion that he didn’t feel up to expending the energy. “mornin’ grillbz.”

The flamesman paused to step over to them. At that moment, Sans recalled their last exchange yesterday and he felt a bead of sweat run down his temple. Well, if he told Grillby about this diet thing in front of Papyrus, at least his brother would know he really _is_ trying his best-

“You left this.” The crackling, soft voice stole his thoughts, and Grillby tossed a bone down at Sans’ slippers. It was that small femur from yesterday, when his magic had slipped and he’d shot one of the booth seats. Oh yeah, he nearly forgot he needed to pay for that too, huh? He was really going to have to watch their expenses closely; the last thing he needed was having to explain to Toriel that he needed a raise to cover the expense of accidental vandalism. _Or worse_ , explaining it to _Papyrus_. His sweating magnified, and he lifted his eyelights back up with a strained smile.

“uh, yeah… thanks. listen, i-”

“Later.” Grillby cut him short, expression unreadable as always as he walked away. Sans could feel from the familiar heat coming off of him that Grillby wasn’t too happy. He supposed that was to be expected, but it would have been nice if he had at least heard him out…

“ok,” Sans sighed at the retreating embers, dispelling his magical bone. Papyrus brushed the crumbs off his hands, leaning forward with a leering grin at Sans.

“THAT WAS NICE OF HIM!” His eyesockets lowered. “IT’S REFRESHING TO SEE I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE CONSTANTLY PICKING UP AFTER YOUR MESSES.”

“no way, bro, i’m an equal opportunity slob,” Sans smirked back, unabashed. Papyrus didn’t look nearly as pleased.

“THAT MIGHT BE FAIR, BUT IT’S ALSO GROSS. I’M AFRAID SOMEDAY I’LL FIND RATS IN YOUR JACKET.” He paused and then added happily, “AT LEAST YOU’LL HAVE COMPANY!”

“hey, rats are pretty cool. they’re cousins with that mouse you keep leaving spaghetti out for.”

“OH! WE SHOULD VISIT THE LITTLE FELLOW! I WONDER IF HE’S REALIZED I PUT THE SPAGHETTI IN THE MICROWAVE FOR HIM YET?” Huh, Sans _was_ wondering why Papyrus had left that table empty. Too bad his brother hadn’t yet realized the mouse couldn’t use the microwave with no power. “LET’S GO SEE HOW HE’S DOING!”

He was picked up suddenly, with the same bounding motion that bore him away down the snowy trail. The force of the swing pressed his belly down on his pelvic bone, and a pocket of air compressed, bursting- “ _ **brruuuurp**_!” He burped right into Papyrus’s collar bone as he was trying to re-position him midstride. Sans watched Papyrus’ face shift from excitement to disgust, and he had to laugh somewhere between that and the tickling sensation in his stomach. He couldn’t help it. “hahaha! o-oh god pap, y’gotta give me more warning than that. i’m a volatile volume.”

“SAAANS! I CAN’T TELL WHAT’S WORSE, YOUR GASSY JOKES OR THE FACT YOU SMELL LIKE BUTTER! I’M WASHING YOUR JACKET TONIGHT, NO EXCUSES!” Sans only chuckled along, internally wincing at the astute observation.

Maybe he should invest in mints…


	5. Fatty Funny Bone, eclairs, cake pops, ramen, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today Sans begins to confront the idea that maybe he’s been a feedee all along. I wish I could italicize the Oh My… in the title. yes, he’ll be here today.
> 
> **warnings: tickle torture, indigestion, fat shaming, and really bad anime**

 

His morning continued on ordinarily enough. Papyrus wound up running off for work after a brief trip to their snow sculptures and the mouse hole. Sans lingered, coming by his old sentry outpost for old time’s sake. Leaning back in his chair, listening to it squeak, and setting up his frozen empty ketchup bottles like bowling pins. At a glance life was simpler then, but he knew better. Under that thin veil of a normal life laid a tangled mess of timeline readouts, nightmares, dizzying deja vu bouts that sometimes even displaced him spatially, late nights obsessing over the mysterious fragmentation of the Underground, and of course, the chaos brought by a lamp-shaped human with questionable motives.  It took him months to accept that it was over. The sense of peace, of freedom, that came with the death of this old life was immense. 

In retrospect, his problems nowadays were nothing compared to those old burdens. He really overreacted yesterday, storming out of Grillby’s like that… No wonder his old friend was upset with him. Flowey was no excuse, that flower was _always_ trying to incite him.

Sans sat there and sluggishly shoved the ketchup bottles over the edge of the post, watching them disappear into the snow drift piled up against his stand. He needed to go apologize to his bar friends and pay back Grillby around lunch. Plus, there was shopping for groceries, he’d have to manage that after he ate though or else he’d overdo it. Other monsters didn’t have to worry about that, but of course, _other monsters_ weren’t gluttonous, greedy little slime buckets like he was. He cracked a bitter smile to himself and slouched further.

And before he did any of that, he still needed to tell Alphys about the barrier so the Core converter could be re-calibrated back to the Doc’s original design… Plus Toriel was going to need an explanation about why she needs to keep it under wraps, and then they had to orchestrate a plan for the barrier’s–

He sighed and laid his cheekbone down on the smooth wood desk, inwardly berating himself and feeling overwhelmed. Sans wished he didn’t have to move. He was trying hard just to have a normal and easy life, but nothing wanted to work out that way for him… He nodded off, easily slipping into a nap as a light snow dusted his prone form. 

_ggrrmmble_

Sans awoke twice as groggy, sitting upright and a line of white, conjured drool trailed after, still stuck to his work station. Oh yeah, he still needed more for breakfast than just a little cinnamon bunny… Messily, Sans wiped his mouth off with the sleeve of his jacket, giving his hungry stomach a reassuring rub, then looked about the snowy landscape. ( _Ugh… how long was I asleep?_ ) Hmm, still SEEMED to be morning. He really needed to get moving if he wanted to talk to Alphys before Undyne showed up at the lab after Gym class. He picked himself up and paused before teleporting out to the ruins.

After taking a second to think, he took out a notepad from under his station, jotted down a message and stuck it to the camera lens behind the post. 

> _gotta talk to you. i’ll be by later._

Now, texting or calling would have been a better solution, but Alphys lived with Undyne _and_ Mettaton in her lab now, and Sans had learned the hard way about these arrangements before. He once texted her about the timeline point scaling project and Undyne had read the text, resulting in an awkward explanation that her ‘worst slacker of a sentry’ _was actually_ a capable physicist. 

In hindsight, it was at least entertaining. 

 

* * *

 

 

Meandering about, as if he didn’t have a care in the world despite his long list of things to do today, Sans came by the spider bake sale within the Ruins, simultaneously impressed and sad to see there were hardly any spiders left. The stragglers were already getting bundled up, wearing the smallest spider coats and scarves he’d ever seen. Quite adorable, really. They seemed excited for the final limo ride out to warmer ground.

“you sure ‘bout moving your shop to hotland? those eclairs and cake pops aren’t gonna hold up…”

“Ahh dearie, I must! We have needs, too. The little ones are really eager to start working for that baseball field~”

“yeah, i get it… but, what about the poor monsters in the ruins, yanno? who’s left to provide for the shy lil’ whimsun and those poor, starving loox?” He winked and laughed. Her five eyes crinkled in amusement and she leaned forward, grasped at the edges of his jacket with two hands, and extended a third to gently pat his stomach. Sans unconsciously tensed up a bit, the assertiveness still unfamiliar, but reminiscent of yesterday when she teased him with that delicious cake pop. The mere thought sent a shiver up his spine, saliva dripping through his teeth again and tummy rumbling in excitement.

“Well you’re so plump and sweet, maybe they’ll just eat _you_ up instead~ ahuhuhu!” He flushed and squirmed, swallowing hard.

“wow, you think? aw muffet, you _fatter_ me.” She laughed harder in response and it was contagious. “i _doughnut_ think i’ve _gain_ ed such a reputation, but if you insist. you should be careful _bloat_ ing people’s egos like that.”

“Ahuhuhu~ if its any consolation, I’ll miss you and your funny bites as well. Come visit us in Hotland tomorrow please? Maybe I’ll spin you a special~” Her hand dug into his stomach a bit harder. 

Sans inhaled sharply, the air in the cracks sucking his drool back in through his closed mouth. He could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect, face practically aglow with magic. What was she planning? “cool,“ he murmured breathlessly, bones trembling and sweating. "that…sounds great…”

“But today,” She slowly released him, turning back to scoop up some pastries with her many arms, filing them into a box. Sans exhaled and shifted on his feet, leaning back to watch as a whole since the six moving arms were too disorienting to focus on individually. “I think it’s kind of you to worry about some things _melting. It’s a good thing you’re here to buy them so they don’t go to waste_ , ahuhuhu~” 

 

And that’s how he ended up wandering the Ruins with a box crammed full with cream filled doughnuts and cake pops. It was more than he was expecting to buy, but at least it was less than yesterday’s two dozen, so he didn’t feel AS guilty. They were delicious as always, light and flaky choux pastries with a thick creamy custard that sat heavy in his stomach, pulling downward. It was nice and cool against his hot, magical tongue.

Sans enjoyed the challenge of trying to keep the filling from squirting out as he bit down, savoring the combination of flavor and texture. But eventually he tired of walking around and wrestling with custard at the same time, so he sat beside the pile of leaves at the bottom of the stairwell to eat. He was still pretty sleepy, even as he lovingly lapped up the sweets trying to squirt out between his teeth. Too bad he couldn’t eat and sleep at the same time. That might be worth looking into.

A rustle of the leaves from behind caught Sans with his mouth full. He half twisted to look at the source, then relaxed and grinned as it was only a Moldsmal. For a moment there, he was afraid it was that fucking flower again.

“‘ey ‘smals, what’s up?” The gelatinous fellow burbled quietly at him, wiggling ever so slightly forward, inching to sit beside him. Sans watched the fellow for a moment, its gentle rises and falls, the soft squashing sounds it made at him… then it dawned on him. “are…are you talking to _my stomach_? that’s a riot!” His hands brushed over the bulge, certainly not at its biggest but feeling nice and round, settled blissfully in his lap. What a funny thing, to think they could be so similar! “sorry pal, this one’s more into _burp_ ing than _burbl_ ing.”

“Squorch…” Moldsmal began to wiggle in a new rhythm, Sans chuckling in return.

“i think you’re pretty ‘ _squorch’_ too.” He sat there and polished off the rest of his doughnuts, watching the smaller monster do an interpretive wiggle dance. They seemed pretty determined to get him to join the movement, but they were unsuccessful. That required way too much effort, especially from his tired bones.

He yawned, then stuffed the entire cake pop in his mouth, letting the chocolate coating melt away in his mouth. The gooey cake inside was next to go, dense and chewy, with small chocolate chips flecked in the batter. He twisted the popsicle stick out and leaned back as he chewed, really savoring this mouthful of bliss. “ _mmmmphhh_ …it feels good to be full. you know what that’s like, don’tcha?” When Sans looked down, he noticed the Moldsmal had somehow acquired his popsicle stick on it’s top, waggling it along with its wiggles. It had also scooted closer and mimicked the soft little popping sounds his stomach made while changing over the magic. “oh…! heh, you’re really spot-on with that. you make me want to feed _you_ too.”

“Gurggle blurp.”

“hmm… here,” Sans winked and stuffed another cake pop in his mouth, removing the stick as he was munching it down and handing it over to Moldsmal. “the only thing better than being a unisicle is being a bisicle.” It wiggled in glee at this acquisition. Still chuckling, he bit into his last cake pop, chewing deliberately. 

“Careful there, Moldy, or this creep might suck you up like gelatin~”

Sans nearly gagged, swallowing before the magic could entirely convert the moist cake. He summoned his bones but both arms were wrapped up in vines, yanking him backwards hard into the stone ground. He was stuck there prone, peering just past his tummy to see the Moldsmal attempt to flee. It didn’t make it, vines easily ensnaring and lifting the poor critter up in the air. It wibbled fearfully. 

That. _Fucking._ Flower. 

“Golly Sans! It’s a good thing I came in time to stop you, this poor flab wouldn’t have survived your never-ending waistline!” The flower snaked out from a crack to his left, blowing a quiet raspberry. “Maybe you should put those bones away now so you don’t hurt your bubblebutt buddy?” Sans clenched his teeth, seething. He had a sneaking suspicion something back there felt amiss. Was the SAVE point back at his sentry post?

“heh. it’s been a while since you’ve pulled this SAVE bullshit. and here i was starting to think you didn’t have it anymore.” Flowey’s smile twisted cruelly and he leaned his stamen back, leering down at him.

“This whole world is so _boring_ , I’d rather let it keep going than wait even longer for the next human to fall down.” He didn’t believe that for a second. Flowey was probably just sick of playing the same old game that always ended with him getting shredded by the angry skeleton.

“yeah. sure. so out of curiosity, how many LOADs did it take before you finally got me like this?”

“As many as it took, you _fat sack of shit_ ,” the flower snarled. Sans took momentary pleasure in his ability to be inconvenient to such powers before his eyelight flashed yellow, targeting Flowey precisely with the bone bullets. The strike was on target, shattering the old stone, but Flowey had moved a second sooner, disappearing into the ground and popping up on his right now, reminiscent of a whack-a-mole game. Three more strikes kicked up dust. The vines wrapped around his jacket tightened to the point of pain. “I asked _really nicely_ for you to put those bones away. Gosh, you must not care _at all_ what happens to this fellow, huh? I could wring him out like a washrag, and it’d be _your fault_ , hehehee~”

“Squrrglee…” His eyelights rose up to the poor Moldsmal, already dripping from being wrapped up too tightly. That poor monster… They didn’t deserve this. Sans permanent grin wavered, drawing tightly as he formulated a plan to free them.

“you have no decency whatsoever, huh?”

“Says the one who stuffs himself like a pig! Heeheeheehahaha!” Roots rose up from underneath, reaching for Sans’ torso. At first he was panicked by the motion, skewering each with a porcelain white tibia. His eye flickered over to cyan, looking for a safe jump spot to teleport out to when one teeny sprout squirreled up and brushed against the right side of his exposed gut.

The sensation startled him out of his focus, and Sans squirmed and chuckled involuntarily as the waxy leaf twisted into his soft, magical flesh. The spots where the bones had hit the ground left more avenues for the vines, and the foliage rose up through the cracks to assault him–

…in…tickles?

What in the Underground was Flowey _doing_? Maybe he was trying to break through his stomach spell? Sans buckled in laughter. Flowey kept going, fluttering leaves gently along his sensitive belly. After a minute, Sans tried to wrench his wide form away but his arms were still secured tightly in place. There was no way he’d reach them with his short legs… He tried summoning more bones but the green sprouts swayed like echoflower fields whispering secrets, and the dance along his belly sent him into an escalated fit. 

His stomach was starting to burn from the activity while still trying to settle his meal. It flashed from the reacting magic, sparks bouncing along the length of his pelvis. “hahaha-h-heh, s-stop,” He whined. Begging to Flowey never seemed like a good idea, but if it would even give Sans a minute of relief, he could teleport out of this tickle torture lickety-split…

Well, the soulless creature barked a wicked laugh at that and hiked his sweater up, exposing his ribs… and pulsing SOUL nestled away within. Sans threw his skull back and heaved for air, fear trickling in as he tried to peer around the bunched up fabric to see the crafty plant. So _that’s_ what this was for. 

“Why, I’m _so_ glad you like my taste in humor too,” Flowey purred, toying further as his roots gently strummed his ribcage like a harp. “But you like the _taste_ of everything, don’t you? You’re _disgusting_.” Augh, he still wouldn’t stop tickling his sides! Sans was coated in sweat, the pleasure tightly intertwined with agony. He gave a little whimper when he saw white petal bullets appear, his stomach churning sickeningly. “Don’t worry~ it’s just a _little nip and tuck_ ~ besides, no one will even miss you!”  He screwed his eyesockets shut… then realised something.

Acting quickly, he turned his own soul deep blue and flicked his wrist down. Sans slipped his arms through his jacket with the force and sent himself sliding across the ground, leaving Flowey surprised and clutching only his garment. The plant shrieked with rage over the sudden escape, but was buried under a graveyard’s worth of bones without a moment to spare.

 

 

Sans had left Moldsmal in the care of Vegetoid, refusing their offer of healthy sustenance on the grounds of his over-stimulated queasiness. He doubled over when he took a shortcut back to Snowdin, tasting some magical discharge in his mouth but refusing to eject it. Staggering off behind some trees, he sat down for a spell to massage himself more tenderly and burp out the pressurized bloat.

“ _ggruuuhhpb_ ,” Sans croaked. Damn that flower… Damn his stupid DETERMINATION. That was his favorite jacket too. The bones probably didn’t wreck it much, but knowing what a little wretch Flowey was, he’d shred it just out of spite. How could anything so _hateful_ exist? What did he get out of being this way?

Well, that wasn’t Sans’ problem until the flower made it his problem. He slipped his hands under the sweater and felt around to be sure Flowey left no unexpected surprises. His stomach was hot and sweaty from the tickle torture, creaking and pinched tightest around his bones like a form-fitting layer just one size too small. Nothing was left behind, thankfully. 

Sans sat there and steadied his breathing, feeling marginally better as cold air mixed with his hot magic. The cramping wasn’t going away fast enough though… the air pockets caught his attention and he squeezed at them, burping louder and tasting… well, it wasn’t just butter anymore. It was sour, and rancid. Tasted like… stress. And just like that, he felt sick all over again, fighting off an uneasy tilt in his magic. He _really_ wanted to throw up now.

No… ketchup. Ketchup could fix this. Some cool, smooth ketchup to wash away the anxiety. His aching tummy always felt better after a bottle. He waited a couple minutes to feel settled, then Sans hauled himself up and shuffled slowly to the store, arms crossed across his front without his jacket to sneak hands into. Maybe he could get some groceries while he was stuck going in anyway…

 

* * *

 

 

He turned up at his old hot dog selling corner in Hotland a while later, suckling the bottle like a big red pacifier. The uneasy churning of energy had calmed, as it always did when he drank ketchup, but he still felt on edge. Even at home, putting away groceries, he was looking, _feeling_ , around for any familiar signs of a SAVE or LOAD. Sans felt unusually paranoid whichever way he turned, even convinced briefly that everyone was looking at him. It didn’t help that he felt doubly naked without his jacket. 

He sighed and chewed on the nozzle tip a little, strolling along to the Lab entrance and ringing the buzzer. After waiting a minute, he leaned up against the door and starting texting her.

*** alph im outside**

Just as he hit send, the automatic door unlocked and slid open, Sans tumbling in. In his shock, his eye turned cyan blue and he twisted on the soles of his slippers, catching himself in a stagger. Shit, he got ketchup on his white sweater again. Oh well.

“`Hello darling!`”  Mettaton wheeled before him and waved effeminately, one hand on his coaxial hip. “`That’s some fine footwork there, maybe you can be my next guest star on “Dancing with Robots!`”  

“sorry, i ain’t got the _backbone_ for that act, mtt.” He settled himself back down, gulping down more ketchup and peering past the large rectangle. Hmm, no Alphys at her cluttered work station, she must be upstairs.

“`Alright, but I better see you pick up your Friday night time slot at the Hotel this week! Some patrons were VERY displeased that the comedy act was canceled!`”

“sure thing.”

“`I mean it- don’t give me lip service! I had to give them free autographs, Sans`!”

“hate to break it to ya,” He grinned wide and winked. “but i don’t have lips.”

“`Save your jokes for the PAYING customers!`” Mettaton dialed in annoyance. Sans strolled past the TV star, still looking for the Royal Scientist.

“alright. so, where’s alphys?”

“`Hiding from YOU,`“ Mettaton chuckled smugly. Sans lifted his skull and squinted to give him a questioning look.

“how come?”

“`She was fooling around with her silly anime instead of working again. I keep telling her I’ll advertise her convention idea, but she’s just too much of a coward to go through with it. Such a waste-`”

“can you get her to come out,” Sans interrupted, not really in any mood to suffer through this tirade.

“`Hardly! Last time the Queen caught her slacking off, she lowered her voice and scolded her gently. Alphy didn’t come out of her garbage can suit for a week!`”

“i’m not _here_ on behalf of tori. besides, slackers don’t rat out other slackers. it’s a cardinal rule of laziness.”

“`Hohoho, WELL I’ve heard you two are quite close! I think the Doctor has every right to second guess Her Royal Advisor.`”

“mettaton, don’t stir this pot please. if i had 50g for every dumb rumor i hear around the underground, i wouldn’t have to work ever again,” He grumbled. The newsletters in New Home spread that crummy, over-hyped headline and it had stuck in everyone’s mind like nasty used gum on the bottom of his slipper. The fact Toriel didn’t politely refute it… well, it was unhelpful. “can you throw me a bone here and help me find her? i gotta go over something.”

“`Only if you’ll give me an EXCLUSIVE interview about your work with the Queen-` ”

“forget it.” Sans waved him off, walking over to the stairs. “i’ll find her myself.”

“`If you insist, but you won’t avoid me forever, Sans. Toodles for now!`” He sighed in relief once he heard the Lab door slide shut. Though he didn’t appreciate the square’s indulgence of making mountains out of molehills, Sans did try hard to be understanding of it. Monsters were restless and starved for something meaningful in their boring lives. If Mettaton gave it to them, then good for them.

But… fake drama, artificial excitement, _false_ _hope_ … that always felt wrong to Sans. Believing in something for the sake of believing, even after proven failure… _nothing_ seemed to be a worse waste of energy than that. Maybe he was just pre-dispositioned to give up.

He panted and gripped the hand railing as he neared the top of the ridiculously tall staircase, inwardly cursing Undyne for coercing Alphys to turn off the conveyor belt feature. It was so much steeper than his stairs at home too… not that he ever walked up and down them either. Once he crested the final steps, he stumbled over to the bed cube and activated it, flopping down on the mattress to rest a moment.

“hhh… hhh… hate those… stairs…”

“me too ,” a voice whispered nearby. Sans paused while rubbing the sweat out of his eyesockets.

“alphys?” The lab remained silent but for only the electrical hum. “come on, i know you’re there.” Still not a sound. He huffed a breath and shifted his weight further into the center of the bed so he didn’t feel like he might teeter off the edge of it. “the law of _averages_ says you’ll stop being so _mean_ and come hang out with me soon. i don’t want to go off on a _tangent_ , but hiding when i know you’re here is kind of _irrational_.” Sans waited to hear the sound of scales scraping to know she was listening, adding in, “you should give in, you know i have an _amplitude_ of puns to go.”

“A-Alright, please just… stop.” The floor panel popped up a couple feet away and the hunched lizard crawled up out of it, sheepishly sliding the panel back in place.

“what is that…?”

“Oh! Th-This? Eheheh, I-I found this new show a-about human ninjas who craft trick houses and-and they fight jungle apes off with banana scimitars! Y-You’ve got to see it-” Alphys suddenly blushed and buried her face in her claws, twisting back and forth in embarassment. “I-I-I mean, you don’t-don’t have to, I just thought you… might… want to watch it with me… I’m s-sorry, you obviously didn’t come here t-to hear me ramble about n-ninja traps…”

Sans watched her tiredly, wondering why everyone had to get Alphys so worked up over Toriel that she couldn’t just be chill with him anymore. Surely, Tori wasn’t being that harsh on her, right? "sure, why not? hiding under the floor sounds like it would have been a pretty cool puzzle too.”

She scrambled in glee, grabbing up her portable dvd player and belly flopping in bed next to him. “Okay, okay, so you gotta start with the pilot episode because it has this really awesome action sequence between Jung Poo and his love interest! He’s training her to fight off the apes too but she can’t stop turning into a panda every time she blushes at him-”

He smiled and nodded along, watching her set up the brightly colored cartoon before scurrying down the stairs with a “get started without me I’ll be right back”. Well, this wasn’t so bad. Sans sighed quietly and laid back to recline… but noticed he couldn’t see the screen around his stomach. Oh… He pressed both hands down on its center curiously, watching the magical sack reconstitute and bulge out at his sides. He tried to inhale deeply and draw it up into his ribcage more, but that didn’t alleviate his line of sight troubles. Yikes, Flowey’s “never-ending waistline” jab might be right… He didn’t look like he was on much of a “diet” at all. Whelp, there wasn’t anything he could do about it right now anyway, so he snatched up Alphys’ pillows and propped himself up.

Sans watched the pilot and started into the first episode by the time Alphys returned, plopping beside him tiredly and shoving a lidded cup at him. “S-So what do you, uh, think so far?”

“it’s neat. i liked when he poked him in the butt and sent the gorilla flying.”

“Wasn’t that crazy!? It’s amazing what humans can do!!”

“i dunno, if undyne poked someone like that with a spear, they’d probably get some good air too.” Sans opened the cup to find instant noodles steaming inside, the strong smell of salt penetrating his nasal cavity. Ahh, nothing like the smell of a horrifically cheap spaghetti variation. Fumbling with the chop sticks disdainfully, he managed to break apart a congealed lump and chomp on the chewy noodles. Soggy, but not so bad. It reminded him of Papyrus’ first experiments with pasta, back when the younger skeleton shared his height. He made a whole pot worth and sat there vibrating for Sans to eat the entire thing in one sitting. The bottom of the pot was the worst part, it was hard and a bit scorched somehow, despite being immersed in water. He ate through it anyway, because it was for his brother’s happiness.

Funny how things changed, huh?

He swiftly reached the end of the container, slurping the noodles between his teeth with a vigor that mimicked hunger. His stomach tingled blissfully, hovering ever closer to that superb _full_ feeling. He wanted to relax and enjoy it, however a thought had struck him while staring down at the empty cup. His eyesockets furrowed, watching Alphys ramble on about the show between wads of ramen herself. He suddenly asked, “why did you make me ramen?”

She gave him a strange expression in return, fidgeting. “Wh-What do you mean? I-I’m sorry I didn’t– did you want something else? We don’t- keep much here since- since–”

“no, no it’s not like that,” He reeled back, grinning harder in reassurance. “it was good! i just wanted to understand… _why_. or maybe, what compelled you to make me something, since i didn’t ask for it?”

Alphys paused the show to really turn and stare at him a moment. The shift from awkward to concern in her eyes stabbed tiny thorns in his tummy, Sans found he felt doubly uncomfortable returning the stare.

“uh,” He gulped, sweating again. “yeah…”

“Sans, um,” She broke first, pulling at her coat sleeves and wrapping a thread tightly around her finger. “You’re… er… a-always eating? I mean, like, usually… you are… S-So I, kind of, uh, a-assumed? That you’d? Want… something??”

“…”

Well, that confirmed it, huh? Paps and Flowey were right, he really did have a serious eating problem. Alphys would have seen him enough in the cameras set up throughout the Underground to know. He couldn’t even recall _when_ he made this transition. Maybe during a period that got RESET? Yeah, some excuse that was. Probably, Sans always was like this and he just let himself go.

“haha. yeah… thanks.” He feigned nonchalance, shrugging his shoulders and shoving his bowl aside. She peeked at him, then mirrored his calm front, swirling the noodles with her chopsticks.

“Y-Yeah. Well, uh, let me know if you… want anything else. To eat, or, um, anything. I-It’s cool.”

“alright.” Sans paused. “whelp, i guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you that my proclivity for stuffing my face brought me to lodge a bone in the barrier.”

Alphys spat out her ramen.


	6. The Big Experiment, massive milkshake binge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warnings: angst, drama, fat shaming, mild vomitting, lying, bad thoughts, considerations of end-of-life / thoughts that borderline or could be be interpreted as a suicidal, drunken behavior NOT associated with alcohol, and starvation!**
> 
> Honestly for “most people” I’m going overboard on these warnings, but I’d rather be extremely open about the possibility of discomfort than to wing it and see how people react!
> 
> This chapter has been split to be more manageable as this chapter alone goes through a couple days and is so big tumblr can’t even handle the load of the draft. 2 final notes I’d like to add: 1- Papyrus’ texts are in reverse order because Sans is scrolling through it that direction. It should make sense anyway. 2- Monster equivalent of starvation is actually closer human dehydration because of their physical makeup being composed of either water or magic respectively. Sans’ experience is still related to food though, this note is more of a clarification about rate of descent.

Sans was not surprised by Alphys’ reaction to the news about the barrier. It reminded him of Toriel picking him up and spinning him around, laughing like an angel. He was grateful the smaller lizard didn’t express herself the same way after Flowey’s tickle torture a short time ago. Alphys jumped up and down on her bed, shouting some unintelligible nonsense she picked up from her shows, then flopped down, easily exhausted, and crawled up to him to take a surprise selfie. Reflexively, he smiled for the flash.

“you are not posting that on undernet,” He warned gently.

“Aw, c-come on Sans! I’ll tag you!” She was already tapping away at the touch screen. He had to reach over and grab her wrist.

“no listen, i’m being serious. nobody can know about this yet.”

“What,” She drew back in shock. “What do you mean?”

“this has gotta be our secret for now, alright? trust me, that little bone is a far cry from freedom.”

“It’s a start though! We-We can’t let something this big just- _go_! This is way too b-big of a secret to keep…”

“of course we’re going to do _something_ about it,” he exhaled through his teeth, feeling agitated by her lack of understanding. “that’s why i’m telling _you_ about it, alphys. this is in our realm, we just need to isolate the variables and get clear results. telling _the world_ can wait.”   

“B-But, Sans…! People will- need to have something to look forward to! Something to- to hope for!” 

He leaned into her personal space, eyesockets darkening and his voice turning gravelly, “ _you mean like those families, when you told them their loved ones were saved from falling down_?” Alphys’ eyes glazed over and she stared at him, flabbergasted. Sans blinked when he saw her tremble, tears welling up and spilling around her glasses. _Wow_ , way to be a jerk to the poor girl. “uh- hey, alph, i-i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry…” He floundered to try and repair his slip, grasping her shoulders and trying to get her eyes to look at him. “no joke, okay? i’m _really_ sorry. i don’t know why i…”

“I-It’s, _hiff,_ o-okay…” He sat there and stared down at the blue sheets beneath him, trying to sort through his anger and guilt while waiting for her to calm down of her own accord. It really _wasn’t_ okay to do that to her. Alphys had been through enough; Sans truly believed she was as much a victim of her scientific pursuits and the goals of the King as Doctor Gaster before her had been. The truth of the amalgamates came out after Asgore died; Toriel insisted on inspecting every part of the Lab. She was _really_ looking for anything designed to harm a human - smuggled, commissioned by the King, or otherwise - but instead they found horrific remains of former monsters. Alphys was weak with grief and shame… She nearly went off the rails. They probably would have found her in a ditch if it hadn’t been for Undyne.

It was… A mess and a half to sort through. 

“nah,” Sans sighed, scratching his skull. “that was rude of me. i probably would’ve done the same thing if i was in your lab coat.” He’d never been more grateful to have hung it up and become a professional slouch. 

“Thanks, Sans… Y-you’re right. W-We have to p-prove it can be done before w-we tell them…” She pushed her glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, picking up her cell phone again to begin tapping out a text. He watched her quietly before realization dawned, snatching the phone away.

“you _can’t_ tell undyne either.”

“-Sans!” Alphys bit down on her lip, now looking thoroughly upset with him. “Why not?”

“i already told you, _nobody_ can know except us,” he reiterated slowly, then added, “and uh, i guess tori, since she was the one who found the bone-”

“W-We can trust Undyne! B-Besides, she’ll be so cheesed with me i-if I keep something about t-taking down the barrier from her!”

“nah, she’ll be mad at _me_ because i made you.”

“I-I can’t go back into- into _keeping secrets_ again, Sans! I… I promised her I wouldn’t!” 

“then don’t think of it as a secret… think of it as… _delayed_ information. it’s not like we’ll keep it from her, we should just get a single test done first then-”

“Undyne works _with_ me in the lab. She’s going to know!” Oh. Yeah… His stomach flipflopped uneasily as he grimaced at his own miscalculation. How did he miss _that_?

“ugh, fine,” He muttered bitterly. “forget it then. i’ll do this myself.”

“Sans,” Alphys wrung her claws out. “What are you… um, wh-what are _you_ trying to hide?” The accusation caught him off guard. He sat there and debated it, going through the events in his head and trying to pick out the worst parts. Well, probably what inflamed him in the first place - all of this focus on his eating habits and weight. His anxiety was acting up just thinking about telling Alphys about his feelings, magic in his gut tightening and clawing at his spine.

But… But, she made him ramen without a second thought, and acted like it was… So _natural_ for him. Maybe he could come clean about this, for a start? Maybe he could trust her with the truth of how difficult all of this was, since he actually _liked_ eating and _liked_ having that soft, heavy gut all filled up and warm. And… None of that really had _anything_ to do with this business about breaking the barrier, like his bar buddies were convinced it was. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyesockets and holding himself there for a moment. Alphys had her own problems. She’d understand. _He could do this_.

“if,” He began, with a vulnerable smile. “if you really want to know, i actually…”

“Alphys, I’m back!!” Undyne tromped in through the sliding doors, high kicking her cleats off and slinging her gym bag to the ground. “Get this - the kid learned how to discus throw with his tail today! It was rad as heck!”

WELP, so much for that. He locked up in place, eyelights fixating on a spot just over Alphys’ shoulder as he screamed internally. His window of opportunity was gone, and not only that, Alphys was going to tell Undyne. If Undyne knew, then Papyrus would know. Sans choked back the urge to cry in frustration. 

Alphys peered over the railing downstairs then glanced back at Sans. “H-Hey, um-uhh, Sans is here, we were… j-just talking about a project!” The doctor gave him a pained smile which he couldn’t bring himself to mimic. Undyne marched upstairs, folding her arms in front of her and curling her lip into a twisted grin.

“Oh! Hey nerd,” She paused to give him a critical look, obviously assessing his stout figure. “Papyrus said you were going on a diet, you want that diet book I found in the dump?”

Sans fought the urge to teleport himself directly into a snow drift. Painfully, he cracked a grin back at Undyne. “nah. isn’t that for humans anyway?”

“Sure, but _your_ fat gut is setting a new precedent for monsterkind. You could probably use all of the pointers you can get from them!” He squirmed uncomfortably, suffering through the nervous pain and shifting in his stomach giving rise to nausea again. “Anyway, just remember you don’t have to do it alone,” Her expression wavered, fierce but friendly. “I’m ready to have you do laps around Snowdin _any time_ punk! You can consider it making up for all of the training sessions you’ve bailed on over the years!”

Sans was sweating so much he swore he might be melting under her intensity. He considered joking on how he _already_ eats for two so there isn’t much _alone_ time, but keeping up the false front was all he could muster. He nodded stiffly, mumbling, “ok”, and tried to keep his eyelights on anything but her face.

Mercifully, she dropped the subject and turned back to Alphys, who was wearing a pensive look. “So, what’s that you two are working on anyway?”

“Er… w-well,” the doctor fumbled, glancing at Sans softly. “We’re - still - discussing the sch-schematics. I-It’s a, uh, an upgrade- for the Core. M-M–Maintenance work. Sans… Had an idea that might process the energy s-smoother so we don’t have t..tremors every week…”

 _Bless this lizard._ He exhaled in relief, disentangling his phalanges from the silken spread. Undyne didn’t catch the motion.

“Aw, so no more land surfing? …Well, I guess it’s better for everyone that way. Tell me what you need!”

“We’re not ready yet, um, s-so…”

“i should probably just show you the western block coil,” Sans smoothly dropped into the act. “do you still have the blueprints there?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so–” He seized the opportunity without a moment to reconsider, hooking Alphys’ arm and winking at Undyne.

“great, then we’ll _catch_ you later.” They were gone in an instant.

 

 

That wasn’t his normal exit strategy. He preferred to be cautious when using his spatial relocation technique, but Sans didn’t want to risk losing control of that situation a _second_ time. The jump was poorly executed in his rush, though, and the high concentration of magic inside him surged as he pulled out of the space-time fabric. Alphys landed fine besides him, confused but quickly adjusting to the fact they were in the main monitor room for the Core. 

Sans landed and doubled over, spitting up sticky, hot, magical vomit on the ground. It wasn’t a substantial amount, but the frothy white slime blotted the floor and hissed angrily. It burned like hell. Sans didn’t get a chance to pick himself up off the floor before the uneasiness peaked a second time, like a choppy wave slamming into a weakened dock, powerful and crushing. “ _BUrrghkrrrgh_ ,” He burped through the next surge and more magic rode up to his hyoid bone, but he didn’t buckle under the searing heat this time. He _just_ had to get through the initial twisting without throwing up… Or at least without throwing up _more_ than a mouthful of energy.

“S-Sans!” She scrambled up beside him and laid her claws on his hunched back in worry. “A-Are you okay?”

He choked and coughed, taking labored breaths as he tried to draw colder air into his mouth. “g… gimme a- minute.” His gut was whining and growling angrily so he laid his hands on it and began to knead, disregarding Alphys’ presence for now. The relief was immediate and he relaxed as they traced across his rubbery stomach, working out cramps. He could feel where the magic was swirling inside his self-made shell, wound up and sloshing… Like this, he could suppress the reaction from going further. He just had to… focus… After a few minutes, everything was beginning to ease up. Sans sat there stock still and closed his eyesockets to allow his lingering vertigo to pass. ( _Everything’s fine. It’s fine. Just… calm down…_ )

“Sans?” Weary, he stirred to look up at Alphys. She straightened a bit, rigidly holding out a sweaty cup of half melted ice. “Oh, s-sorry, I thought- you, um, fell asleep…” Truthfully, he might have if she had taken any longer to fetch that. He stared a moment before quietly accepting the cup, throwing back the ice and chewing thoughtfully. It was a good relief from the lingering magical burn.

“s’fine.” Alphys sat back down beside him and they listened to the heavy, thrumming sound of the Core igniting the magma chamber, neither feeling ready to continue. Sans came to grips with it first, sighing and leaning back on his hands and observing the Core monitors. “thanks for not telling her.”

“I-I’m still going to tell her. Just… I’m gonna _delay_ telling her,” She said, choosing her words carefully. Sans smiled at that. “Um… do you mind if I ask what _that_ was?”

“magic,” he answered simply and shrugged his shoulders. “fuggedaboudit.” 

“S-Sans, as your friend, I-”

“seriously, it’s fine. i’m good now.”

“How is- how is that fine? Okay, f-fine, you don’t want to talk about this,” She sweeps her hand to gesture at the scarred ground where his magic had burned through. “A-And you don’t want talk of the barrier getting out…? Why? A-Are you-”

“alph, _please_ ,” Sans begged but she was already thinking two steps forward, clasping both hands to her mouth in shock and staring at him. He breathed a sigh, resting his cranium in his hand. ( _Great._ )

“Using… using that excess m-magic? On the barrier?” He didn’t reply, steeping in his resentment instead. Why couldn’t he just do what he wanted? Why did it have to be _for_ something? Alphys collected anime, Toriel baked, Undyne played piano, but nobody ever asked them what they were _doing with it_. Why did everyone think differently of him eating? 

Maybe he needed to think differently about it; really, _the barrier_ was what they were focusing on, not Sans’ habits. He started all of this because he couldn’t just tell his friends he made himself pudgy and fat willingly, and now Alphys was coming up with the same ideas about his indulgence being some grand master plan too. Though he knew he shouldn’t, Sans was still too tired to resist, and allowed her to draw her own conclusions. “sure,” he mumbled, resigned.

“That’s… Uh, w-wow. Sans, but that’s… that’s incredible. I guess I’d be worried about letting people down too though. Especially with something so weird as eating all the time.” He winced unconsciously. “I mean, that is, if I, uh, if I had ever gotten anywhere close with my r-research…” Alphys paused to let that train of thought die out, then smiled, readjusting her glasses on her snout. “Do you, uh, e-even know what your magical capacity is?”

( _Magical capacity?_ ) He turned the word over in his head, slowly lowering his eyelights to his gut resting at ease in his lap. What was she implying? Breaking out of his magical capacity was the _entire reason_ he conceptualized his stomach. “i don’t think i have one anymore? its not like my bones are retaining the magic. once i absorb it, the magic gets stored away in this fun sack.”

“So it’s n- _not_ a part of your body…?”

“nah, of course it is. it’s just a part i _made_. trust me on that one, alright? it’s actually a lot easier to handle than it looks.” (And boy does it _handle easy.)_ He smiled and pinched his sides, chuckling, if only to himself. ( _I still like you, buddy, even if no one else does…_ ) 

“Then… i-is there _no limit_ to how much magic you can store…?” Alphys lowered her voice to a whisper, eyes wide. He slowly returned the look, pondering. His limit? As in, what would happen if he ate endlessly? No, he already knew he couldn’t do that. Even after making his tummy, Sans could only eat to the point of being painfully full before he passed out like any other monster. The memory of the binge he went on after he first made his stomach sent a shiver through his bones and made his stomach rumble, yearning again.

“u-uh,” He stammered, blushing with embarassment over his excitement. “yes, and no? there’s a limit to how much food i can convert before i go down, b-but not… _how much magic i can hold_ … not any that i know of.”

He flinched when she suddenly slammed her hands down on the ground, beaming as bright as the idea that entered her head. “Sans! Are you serious? All this time we thought it was _the amount of magic_ that monsters were getting full on- and it’s really their _absorption rate_ of the magic? That’s a tremendous difference! I’ve _got_ to run some trials-”

“alphys,” Sans began sternly, taking her hands and cupping them together between the two of them. He found he couldn’t help but return the genuine smile, though; the thrill was contagious. “do you _really believe_ i could do something about _the human’s barrier_ by storing magic?”

“I think you’ve _already_ proven that, Sans! Your theory about localizing an energy field then directing the force through a single overlay point, w-well, even if you’re off a little bit in the calculation… between your amassing magic and rebuilding the Core cannon…!”

“we’ll have to reproduce the first bonebreak result, the calculation _can’t_ be off,” He reminded her gently. “and besides, i’ve never measured how much magic i can hold before. it might not be worth…” ( _Even trying?_ ) He sobered at the thought, dropping their hands to rest his carpals on either femur. Then he’d just be the _weird, fat, lazy_ piles of bones he already knew he was, without justification or remorse. Part of him liked the idea of keeping it so simple… the other part worried about living with the pressures of everyone’s judgements.

“Your absorption rate should be tested first,” Alphys took her hands back to wipe the sweat off from around her glasses and face. “I already have everything we need, between the _mana_ readout scanner and ice cream machine.”

His insecurity flashed away like dry ice and Sans stared at her. Did she just say…? “an _ice cream_ machine?”

“Y-Yeah! It takes seaweed, and-”

“you had an ice cream machine and _you never even told me_? wow. i thought we were friends.” He winked, adding, “that’s just _cold_ , alphys. talk about _freezer burn_.” For a split second she got flustered but dropped her mild fumbling to go deadpan at his joke.

“I-It’s not, I’m sorry- no, Sans… don’t play games with me. N-Nice cream is better to share with friends anyway!”

“that sounds like a _gelato_ ‘uv excuses.” She gave him a very distinct look of displeasure… like a wet cat who took an involuntary bath. He just laughed that much harder.

“That was horrible.”

“heh heh heh, i had to _pun_ ish you somehow. so what flavors do you get on that sucker?”

“It can only taste like strawberry. I haven’t found anything else for it to take besides the seaweed for now- Sans, are you drooling? That’s so gross!” Rubbing the conjured saliva off his jaw with a sleeve, he chuckled and flushed as his stomach rumbled loudly in response.

“pfft, so i’d uh, _berry_ much like that.” Well, he _was_ running late for brunch… telling his friends the truth and paying back Grillby was going to have to wait. _Science_ and _sweets_ await. 

“I didn’t mean _now,_ Sans! Besides, didn’t you just have ramen?” His blank stare gave her enough of an answer and she laughed nervously, wringing her claws. “Okay, w-well, I guess having a voracious appetite is a-a good thing anyway!”

“why not now?”

“Because this is our first test, o-of course. The control experiment.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

A control is an experiment that controls all variables aside from the result and the one presumably affecting the result. If they were going to look at what his stomach was capable of and measure just that, every other influence would have to be negated. Muffet’s baked goods, Grillby’s greasy meals, Toriel’s pies and Papyrus’ home cooked love… Even simple snacks like hot dogs. He wouldn’t be able to eat anything else until they finished their experiment with the mass-produced ice cream. Luckily, Alphys already knew how much mana the ice cream yielded per ounce.

That wasn’t “the hard part”, though Sans felt it was difficult enough to endure, considering he’d be missing Muffet’s ‘surprise’ for him tomorrow. No, the hard part was _starving himself out of magic he already had_.

Sans nearly broke down and cried in anticipated agony when Alphys insisted they needed to start him out with the bare minimum of magic, only leaving him with the magic that he _needed_ to keep from being dust in the wind. Granted, he understood how vital using a control was, but… She was asking him to subject himself to _torture_! Last night’s hungry hunt resulting in a butter binge came to mind. He felt so awful for that short period of time and Sans wasn’t anywhere near lacking in magic then! Besides, food was _everywhere_ , he’d never get through avoiding it. This skeleton did not possess that kind of resolve.

But he _had_ to know the results. Monsterkind deserved better than being trapped behind a barrier just because he was too weak to handle his urges.

So, he agreed. Because he had no choice, because he should. Whatever. At least he convinced Alphys to keep an eye on him without having to go into embarrassing details about stealing onion rings… Eating dog food that was left unattended… And so on.

Sans was instantly bored. He could have stuck with Undyne and Alphys but that was just asking for trouble. Undyne was too sharp and Alphys was too lousy of a liar. Instead he came by the old lab downstairs, relieved to see the vending machine had finally sold out of popato chisps. To his surprise, Endogeny was hanging around down here, bouncing around - dangerously animated. It was nothing that he couldn’t handle, though. He was practically a professional dog tamer after working with the extended family for years in Snowdin, even though the thick, shaggy hair got tangled up in the joints of his bones.

It was a good distraction, actually. Plus, if he expended some of his magic on his own accord, this all could go faster, right? 

“gettin’ tired there, buddy?” Sans called out, seeing the malformed canine slow down a touch while bounding through the white boneyard obstacle course he’d made, chasing a flying blue bone. The ghastly howling sounds coalesced, partly whining but picking up in vigor, as it leapt up onto the ceiling. He grinned at its enthusiasm and summoned forth a dozen more humeri just ahead of its charge. Endogeny zigzagged past, scuttling up and down the walls and tumbling through a rib cage trap. Despite being enormous in size, the dogs still retained their nimble agility. Sans could really admire that.

His pocket vibrated just as Endogeny caught up to the blue bone in flight and he momentarily took his eyes off of the hulking beast. A moment later he looked back up to see they were sailing through the air with the blue bone lodged in the opening of their single orifice… And careening his way. Sans blinked out instinctively, returning to his teleport spot in the labs several rooms away. He bounced once on the dusty and worn mattress.

“heh– _hic_ … heh heh…” He remained there a minute more, breathing heavily and staring sleepily at the ceiling. See, that wasn’t so bad. He could do this… Sans looked down and ran both hands over the belly he sported, judging the size. It had deflated a little bit, reminding him of a sad cake lacking the baking powder it needed to rise. ( _Hang on, don’t think about cake now…!_ ) He winced at himself but it was too late, the angry rumble shaking the magical flesh beneath his carpals. "shit,” Sans sighed at the hunger pangs and remembered what disturbed his play time with Endogeny to begin with, fishing out the phone. 

* [ ^-^; Hows it going? ]

*** hungry lol**

* [ I guess that should be expected tho?? >3<;; ]

*** hey u asked**

* [ RIGHT… YEAH O_O;; ]

He chuckled at her before another rumble smothered his joy. Sans groaned and rolled over on his side, looking up as Endogeny padded its way proudly in with the blue bone and laid it down for him. “heh, look at you… hard to imagine you were falling down once, huh?”

Their frothing intensified as its whole body vibrated and wagged. He smiled… then patted the bed. Instantly, Sans was engulfed in white and black fur, and Endogeny curled around him and turned to find the best position on the significantly smaller mattress.The dog was so soft and warm that he blinked heavily, even though they poked their teeny head up under his hand yearning to be petted. He stroked them until he nodded off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Evidently, his stomach could be quite threatening. Endogeny napped with Sans happily until the occasional burps and rumbles of his emptying magic began to make more of an uproar. He awoke to a growling match between the two, his sensitive belly clawing away at his insides from above and threatening hair bristling from below. Well, shit.

“hey,” He smiled weakly and tried to appease them with a pet. “don’t listen to, uh, me. it’s just, waiting is _hard_. someone needs to throw me a freakin _bone_ here. ya get me?” Endogeny flattened its ears, still growling but lower and quieter. “what’re ya even doin’ down here, bud? protecting your old territory or somethin?” Naturally, they didn’t answer. Sans had heard them bark only once before, and it was chaos. Like a choir of voices all trying to talk at once, desperately as if frightened to be silenced forever. Even more haunting was the fact he could envision each one of their faces shouting… those poor dogs.

Sans realized suddenly the pain of his starving stomach was lessening a tad while he was engulfed by memories of the dog family, so being distracted _was_ a solution here. He began to scratch behind Endogeny’s ear, watching the black fur twist around as its leg started kicking wildly at the edge of the bed.

“heh heh heh. wanna play something else?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* Knock Knock!

*** whos there?**

* Spell.

*** spell who**

* W

* H

* O

Sans started cracking up, texting Toriel back. He had lost track of time while wandering around the musty lab and she had texted him, wondering why he hadn’t come by. It was an easy fix - after all, she knew he was going to be working out new ideas for breaking the barrier with Alphys. 

The hardest part was lying to her. ‘Please don’t forget to check the ruins! ]:)’, the message said innocently enough, but he had winced and typed out an ‘ok’ anyway. Truthfully, he _probably_ wouldn’t have enough magic to teleport there tomorrow to even check for humans, let alone to deal with visiting Flowey’s favorite spot for treachery. He always had the element of surprise and he knew Sans would always come. Maybe this was just the change of routine the skeleton needed to get him off his back… 

Maybe Sans just told himself that to cover the fact he simply didn’t want to go.

Endogeny whined impatiently and quivered, Sans looking back up at the bone structure they were playing with. “oh sorry, i was _dug_ in deep there, heh. here,” He waved a hand with ease, flicking one bone gently out from the center of three and sending it up to sit delicately on top. “your turn.” The dog amalgamate scrunched up, circling the tower and sniffing it thoughtfully.

A clear sounding bell broke both from their concentration. Endogeny leapt up, on high alert, and bounded away faster than if Sans had thrown a stick. Down the hall he spied the gigantic fluffball pouncing on Alphys and viciously tearing the bag of dog food out of her hands, then running away with its spoils. Biscuits scattered about from the mugging. Dry, hard, bone shaped dog treats. Dried out, jerky-like, oddly spiced and chalky… maybe they were like the barbecue mesquite one that was Doggo’s favorite…? Or maybe they were chicken and salmon flavored like Dogaressa’s…

Sans had already begun sliding some of them down the hall while he was entranced by the prospect of food. He blinked out of his daze and tried to reign his magic back in while the treats were still far enough away to resist, pulverizing the pieces to a fine dust with a sharp throw of his arm. He shook helplessly afterwards, heaving for air. His stomach roared in protest and hurt as if a knife had been twisted inside. Sans flopped backwards onto the bed, groaning loudly and clutching the bed sheets tight.

“Wh-Wh-Who’s here?” Alphys stammered as she drew nearer, then found him. “S-Sans? What are you- d- _doing_ here!”

“suffering,” He wheezed, screwing his eyesockets shut.

“N-No, I mean, what are you doing i-in the lab…! I-I thought you were back home in sn-Snowdin!”

“can’t. s’food everywhere.” His hungry stomach growled, trying to drown him out in protest, so Sans was forced to raise his voice higher. “i was jus’ playin with the dog…” He didn’t hear Alphys’ reply so he lifted his head and blinked at her drowsily. She seemed… perplexed? Or maybe just having mixed feelings?

“Um… s-sorry, I wish you had t-told me… You shouldn’t be d-down here, Endogeny is still dangerous…” 

“does undyne know you’re coming down here and feeding someone you would call ‘dangerous’,” He scoffed, squinting. 

“I-I– I don’t… think they are… b-but they bit the littlest b-bunny girl, a-and the two f-families insisted I-I fix how excitable th-they get…” Oh yeah, he’d nearly forgotten about that. It seemed a bit like an overreaction to him, to isolate the poor pup… Blaming Alphys was probably just the only way the rabbits and the dogs could get past the feud. 

“they ain’t a problem. even picked up bone jenga.”

“B-Bone…?” She looked up at the tower erected beside the bed. “…O-Oh. Wow. That’s… actually pretty impressive.” He gave her a tired smile. She sat down beside him and drew shapes with a finger into the bedspread. “D…Do you want to watch some anime with us?”

If Sans had been in a better frame of mind, he would have opted out. Instead, he just shrugged lazily. “sure.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t so bad. After Alphys invited Sans to watch _Sugoi Ninja Rising_ with them and cracked a lot of _panda_ monium jokes, the two girls had picked up playing the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie video game in a competition against each other for points. He had opted out of participating, nodding off intermittently whenever Undyne wasn’t screaming about catnip packets and chocotuna drops. Each time he blacked out, he woke up to see them playing on a different stage. Undyne crouched like a tiger on the arm rest of their couch. Alphys had lengthy notes and bookmarked pages in a guide book beside her. Sans joked once about their nine lives… then fell asleep again.

♪ _[Citti! Citti! Ravioli too! Pasta, Pasta, ’s very good for you!](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D5-wRU0_WDxQ&t=YjI0MDlhMWUyODhlZTJkYTIwOTA1Y2RmZDczOWIwNDY3ZTRhYWRiNyxPaTFYbkNDYw%3D%3D) _ ♫ 

His closed eyesockets scrunched up as he woke this time to the sound of a familiar ringtone. He felt around his pockets blindly for his cell phone and clinked it against his skull, mumbling, “sup bro…”

“OH GOOD, I GOT YOU! I THINK MY PHONE IS BUSTED AGAIN, IT SEEMS MY MAGNIFICENT TEXTS HAVE BEEN LOST IN THE ETHOS!” Sans blinked and checked. Huh, when did he miss so many texts?

“you mean _aether_ , not ethos,” He corrected his little brother gently. “don’t sweat it bro, your texts came through. i musta’ just missed them.”

“WELL, THAT SHOULDN’T BE A PROBLEM THEN! AFTER ALL, SWEATING IS WHAT _YOU_ DO, SANS - THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAN ONLY GLISTEN.”

“heh heh heh,” Sans managed a smile for himself. Papyrus prattled on but he couldn’t be heard over another screaming match erupting- seemed one of the rounds came to a sudden death finish. Sans was able to make out a question from the confusion in his voice, and he sank back comfortably into the non-lumpy couch. “eh, i’m watching undyne and alphys pulverize kittens.”

“THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN,” Undyne shrieked as she threw her wireless controller clear across the lab.

“I-I didn’t even- k-know that COULD happen…!” Alphys looked thrilled about their discovery, despite how screwed up the sequence was, and grabbed one of her guides to dig into it.

“THAT SOUNDS MILDLY DISTURBING. GOOD TO HEAR YOU’RE ALL HAVING FUN!”

“oh yeah, it’s a real _cat_ astrophe.” Papyrus’ whine on the other end didn’t bring him as much joy as he expected. Sans sighed figuring it was because he felt too drained to jape right now.

“PLEASE DON’T RUIN MY APPETITE RIGHT BEFORE DINNER WITH YOUR BAD JOKES! OH, RIGHT, ABOUT DINNER!” Sans winced and tried to turn away, the very thought dragging his cravings back into focus. Oh heavens, he just got fresh pasta and sauce today at the market too- and the- and the crumbly _parmesan_ … “THANK YOU FOR GETTING THE GROCERIES, IT WAS SO GOOD TO COME HOME AND SEE YOU WERE PRODUCTIVE! GERSON SHOWED ME A GREAT SPOT FOR GETTING FRESH SCALLOPS TODAY, SO–”

“p-pap,” He breathed heavily into the receiver, squirming as his stomach rumbled. He had to suck in air to keep from drooling over his phone. “that sounds _great_ bro but i’m, uh, working on something with alphys. i’m probably gonna be tied up all night here.”

“… IN PULVERIZING KITTENS??”

“nooo, no, it’s … _timed_ , like, we gotta check for progress every couple hours,” Sans tried quickly to cover himself. There was a long pause on the receiver and he held his breath.

“…OH, OKAY…! WELL THEN, I SUPPOSE I SHOULDN’T INTERFERE IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING WORK FOR ONCE. DON’T EAT TOO MUCH JUNK FOOD STAYING UP ALL NIGHT WITH ALPHYS!”

“i won’t,” He breathed out.

“ALSO, YOUR FRIENDS WERE ASKING IF YOU WERE ALRIGHT? THEY SAID YOU HAVE BEEN SKIPPING OUT GOING TO GRILLBY’S, SO I TOLD THEM YOU WERE ON A DIET!” He was groaned inwardly. ( _Dammit guys, really?_ ) Though, he supposed it was his own fault for storming out, but… still. At least with Papyrus telling them they might understand it better than if he had to awkwardly explain what possessed him…? “YOU MUST BE TAKING THIS SO SERIOUSLY IF YOU HAVE EVEN GIVEN UP HAVING THAT GREASY SLOP TO EAT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS SUPER IMPRESSED WITH YOUR RESOLVE!” He added as an afterthought in a lower pitch, “AND SUPER SURPRISED, TOO. YOU _ARE_ ALRIGHT, YES?”

“yep, m’ good,” Sans croaked, a bit choked up between his guilt and his hunger. He scrambled to change the subject before Pap could grill him of what he _was_ eating if he wasn’t having dinner at home or at Grillby’s. “would you mind if i read your bedtime story over the phone tonight? i know it by heart anyway.” 

"IF THAT WOULD NOT INTERFERE WITH YOUR WORK, THEN I WOULD LOVE THAT!!”

“great, i’ll call you later. don’t let the stove catch on fire.”

“SAAAANS! I HAVEN’T DONE THAT IN MONTHS!”

“nah, i’m sure you’re a diligent cook, bro, but you just never know with that ol’ hunk of junk. the stove could be _burning_ for a good barbeque.”

“SIGH. I’M HANGING UP NOW.” Sans hung up before Papyrus could go into his long “goodbye” routine, curling up to ball his fists into his midsection and apply pressure to the writhing organ. It was rumbling so badly he could feel his magic stomach shake his bones… It was painful and dizzying. Sans closed his eyesockets to try and re-assess his magical stores. He wasn’t even halfway there yet; this was bad timing to be feeling this particularly ill already.

“So what are you two working on?” Sans could feel Undyne’s stare through his skull, shuddering involuntarily. His SOUL turned cold. Ugh, what he wouldn’t give to take a shortcut home, lay his face in Papyrus’ dinner, and just inhale…

“uh, the core’s…. you know, the energy kick so it…” Aw, heck, what was it they told her before? His mind felt like it was frozen and melting simultaneously. He drew a blank.

“S-Sans’ idea for the energy converter,” Alphys interjected and he counted his blessings for her once again.

“I get that, but why does that mean he’s got to stay here? We can handle any curve-ball it throws.”

“Actually, he’s m-more intimate with the core’s design than I-I am. And it’s uh, h-his idea…”

“Okay, but we can _handle_ it, Alphys! I’m just saying, Sans looks sick and keeps making weird noises. And not his _usual_ weird noises,” She added sourly.

“heh, h-hey,” He forced out, opening his eyes despite the vertigo and unwrapping himself around his stomach. He needed to put up the best front he could muster and hope Undyne didn’t see through his unhinged sweaty smile. “it’s more like alphys is, uh _double checking_ my work to make sure i don’t blow us all up. ha. ha… i’m not sick.” Sans scraped for anything to justify himself with but only managed to add a lame, weak-sounding, “yeah… so there…”  

“Yeah, that’s SO convincing,” She squinted and tapped a single finger on top of his skull. “All I’m sure of is Pap wouldn’t buy this if he were standing where I am.”

“can’t blame ‘im, i wouldn’t buy me either.” He tried blinking his eyesockets to clear the sweat from dripping into his line of sight. That was a bad choice. The lab’s artificial light spun more and he swayed, leaning over the couch rest to splay his arms out. Neither of the ladies said anything, and Sans hoped momentarily they’d found something else to do besides watch their friend pose prostrate on their furniture.

“S-Sh-She, um, she’s got a, a point, Sans. D-Do you wanna lay down? I-I have a futon a-around here somewhere.” He heard claws skittering along the tile floors but they seemed to come and go in all directions. Huffing a breath, Sans rolled his skull along his clavicle, shifting his bones for a more comfortable, albeit weird, position.

“like… _horizontally_ lay down…?”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re already halfway there.”

“i strive for greatness… but its really hard to _rise_ to the occasion sometimes.” Nobody laughed, but at least he kept smiling.

“Ah, h-he’s fine if he’s making bad jokes,” Alphys smiled, biting down on her lip and tugging Sans down by the sweater edges. He slid off the couch onto the lump of fabric, mildly unhappy that it was less plush and cushy than his former rest space. A pillow landed on his backside. “T-There! B-Better?”

“uh-huh,” He mumbled, feeling oddly relieved to be laying down on the ground where he couldn’t lose his balance. Sans twisted around to lay on his back and clutched the pillow to apply more pressure to his gut. “thanks…”

“Alllriiight,” Undyne stepped over him, sitting back on the couch. “Hope you don’t mind we go for best out of three then, Sans! This time, no catipliers!”

“Undyne, catipliers are the only way to obtain the golden hairball, we can’t play it like that! It’s _sacrilege_ ,” Alphys refuted.

“nnh…” He dozed off, listening.

 

 

* * *

 

 

##  **GGRRRUUUGGGGHLLL…**

Sans didn’t wake up for several hours later, despite one of the controllers ending up inside the front of the screen. Shimmering shards of glass were scattered on the floor across from him. It was the first and only thing he could make out, blinking heavily and lifting his skull slightly to survey the dark lab. Some sounds reassured him that Alphys might be nearby, or around the corner, however far away his spot was from the bed. His skull was throbbing so he laid back down, nestling in to try to go back to slee-

 _Fuck he forgot to call Papyrus_. Panic flew in and he scrambled for his phone, scrolling down his messages.

* _LOVE YOU_

The first words cut into him like a knife. His hands were shaking too much to read the texts before that, so he fumbled with the phone on the blanket and rolled over to lay it flat on the ground. Sans knew he fucked up, Papyrus wasn’t the type to abuse _that_ affectionate word unless he thought he had a very good reason. 

* GOODNIGHT SANS

* I’M SORRY.

**1 missed call from Papyrus.**

* YOU’RE MISSING THE BEST PART!

* I’M GOING TO READ FLUFFY BUNNY TO THE DOG. I THINK THEY WILL APPRECIATE THIS FINE PIECE OF LITERATURE

* IF I HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO UPSET YOU, THEN I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT IT WAS NOT MY INTENT

* SANS?

**2 missed calls from Papyrus.**

* OK, I’M GONNA CALL YOU INSTEAD!

* I APOLOGIZE IF I HAVE BLOWN UP YOUR PHONE

* YOU’RE REALLY QUIET TONIGHT

* READY WHENEVER YOU ARE!

* SANS DID YOU FORGET?

* WERE YOU GOING TO CALL ME?

* [Photo of the Annoying Dog… taking a selfie? It was also posted to the photo sharing site, Puptogram.]

* ACTUALLY, I INVITED THE DOG BACK INSIDE. I DO NOT VERY MUCH LIKE BEING HOME ALONE

* ARE YOU BUSY WORKING, OR BUSY NOT WORKING BUT LOOKING BUSY AT WORKING?

* I THINK WE HAD A BARK TO BARK, IF YOU GET WHAT I MEAN! NYEHEHEH!!!!

* [Photo of Papyrus and the Annoying Dog sitting in his outside dog house ‘jail’]

* DON’T WORRY BROTHER I HAVE THIS UNDER CONTROL!

* THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS!!!!!!!!

* SANS WHEN ARE WE GOING TO DOG PROOF THE HOUSE?

* [Photo of Papyrus making jazz hands at a plate of spaghetti. Seems he rigged the flashlight to act like a spotlight on the plate. It looked really good, considering it was duct taped to a broom]

* [Photo of Papyrus that was run through a Blingee glitter gif generator]

* UNDYNE AND ALPHYS’ SELFIES MADE ME WANT TO TAKE ONE TOO!

Sans couldn’t bare to keep looking back at the texts. Something about Papyrus feeling lonely at home and waiting for him to call… It wrenched his SOUL. How could he be so damn selfish, sleeping on through his calls and texts like that? Or how about cowardly, considering half of the reason he was staying here was because he couldn’t find a way to talk to Papyrus about his feelings? Sans wondered why he didn’t move out to live in the garbage dump yet. 

*** omg bro im so sorry i def fell asleep back ther**

*** im a bonehead what can i say**

*** call me if you’re up? i’ll still read 2 you**

He pressed to call him but hung up right as a ring began. ( _Yeah, wake him up too, why don’t you?_ ) Papyrus barely sleeps at all as it is, wouldn’t that be nice and fair of his brother to wake him up just to be a sorry sack of shit? 

##  **BLLRRGHHLL… RRHHHHHMM…  
**

Sans laid his head down and grimaced. Even feeling guilty wasn’t enough to keep the hunger pangs away now. It was as uncomfortable as it was loud. He shuddered and clung tighter to the blankets, trying to wrap himself up like a burrito. _Ohh_ , a burrito would be so good right now… Rice and frijoles and melty cheese with the meat, stuffed so full it would want to leak messy juices everywhere, especially every time he took a big bite… He’d love some cool sour cream to take the edge off of the spiciness…

##  **GRRRRRRRLLLLLMMMBBBBBBBLEEEEEE**

“stooooop,” He whined and writhed, groaning between each tremor. It was so _easy_ to think about food… After all, that was what got him by up until now. Not just at the hot dog stand, but coping with the Gaster shaped hole in time and space completely ripping his life apart, and then dealing with Flowey and Frisk’s resets… Food was always _there_. Eating and just being happy for the time it lasted… That was the only facet of his life that was easy and simple.

Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel… None of them really knew about all of it. Each carried pieces of the complete picture that he’d be forced to share in full eventually, but as long as Flowey was about and they were as unsuspecting as the rest of the underground, he’d make no motion to tell them. 

Would they have understood what eating _meant_ to him even if he _had_ shared the reality of his tightrope act? Granted, everyone had their problems, but no one he’d known had turned to making a magical extension of their body and gorging themselves. ( _You’re a freak_ ), Flowey’s words echoed in his own mind. ( _They hate you because you can’t just get along like a normal skeleton._ )

What was he even doing with his life now, anyway? Toriel didn’t need him, she’d done this before. Papyrus was far more capable without him than he’d ever acknowledge. Sans had convinced himself he had found some control through his new routine, but it had no potential to yield anything positive at all. He was a waste of space and resources.

##  **MRRRRUHHRRRRRRGLE**

Even this whole potential for energy harvesting that Alphys was fixated on was pointless. His suffering would be for nothing. There was no way he’d gather enough magic to do anything useful with it. Sans should embrace his pathetic existence in the short-term relief of food… He’d already disappointed Papyrus, so why not disappoint Alphys and Toriel too?

( _Go eat something._ ) The thought was crystal clear, even though his haze of exhausted confusion and lingering, desolate emotions. Sans stopped his writhing to stare blankly at the floor, trying to reconcile with the idea of moving his tired, magic deprived bones. Where would he go at this hour? Well, Alphys probably had some dry ramen he could inhale. It wasn’t that great to eat straight up, but the magic could… Get him by…

Aching, Sans army crawled out of his futon. He struggled to get back up on his metatarsals, clawing himself halfway up over the couch and puffing for a minute there, already exhausted by the motion. His stomach radiated the worst of his pain but even his bones were hurting in waves now. Panting, he pushed himself up through the struggle and teetered on his feet. ( _Eat something. Eat **anything**._ ) Sans felt possessed by the idea. 

##  **MMLOORRRPRRRHHH… GGGRRRRRRRMMMM…  
**

He edged himself to the stairs leading down and looked on into the abyss. _Fuck_ , he forgot he was upstairs again. Sans hesitated, huffing and puffing while holding the rails tightly. Going down was easy… He didn’t have to come back. The only real challenge here was keeping steady. Food was on the other side. He could shortcut, but he likely couldn’t get his bearings clearly enough to go where he wanted. He dug his phalanges in to the metal as tight as he could manage and closed his eyesockets to ward away his light-headed dizziness. One step down. Okay. He shifted his weight and–

“Sans?” He flinched, drawing back to look with wide eyesockets. The pitch black lab swam. He kept sliding forward to the stair beneath.

Ah, fear, what an old friend.

“s’-lphYS!” Sans yelped as he began to go down, SOUL slamming into his ribcage as his bones fell. Instinctively, he turned his soul blue but he didn’t know which way to even _go_. He luckily didn’t have to guess as long arms had wrapped around his ribs and pulled him back as he slipped, securing him from descending the stairs. Sans flailed anyway, gasping and scratching for his own hold.

“H-Hang on! S-St-Stop, I got you, it-it’s okay!” He trusted her, feeling the tug and the floor scraping against his calcanei. She found a place she felt comfortable enough to hoist him up for a supportive hug. Sans stopped trying to do anything about his situation entirely, whimpering and drawing shaky breaths. “I-I got you, I got you,” Alphys stroked his back, hushing him with reassurances that doubled to keep herself calm too.

Boy was he fucked when _Alphys_ was the tranquil monster between them. Any possibility of getting to those ramen packets were gone now and he sobbed great dry gasps, shaking with immense desire and pain. ( _You haven’t even gone a whole day yet and you can’t even manage to get yourself food. You’re pathetic._ ) At least neither her consoling or his self-flagellation overwhelmed him - Sans quit his tearless crying to hang in her arms like a sack of potatoes, ready for the timeline to stop if it would be so merciful for once.  

She must have been resigned to his misery like he had, dragging him along back to his futon and laying him down. Sans landed face down on his pillow, bones twisted awkwardly, but he was too exhausted to amend his position. He was back to sleep before Alphys even got to pull the blanket over him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sans dreamed of a great big sandwich, all for him. The roll was so bready he could barely fit the stacked meats into his mouth… In fact, no, he couldn’t, but that was not distressing in the least. In fact, it was somewhat exciting. Sans tore a piece off furiously and chewed with great deliberation. It was… so light, not as flavorful as he thought. It could really use some olive oil or mayonnaise. But it offered him relief, and that was all he could care about. His conjured spit soaked in and he felt like he was going to be chomping away at this bite for forever as it danced around his mouth…

That would have been fine by him, had he not awoken to find his face immersed in a ripped up pillow, its feathers stuck to his cheek with drool. He moaned and rolled over, regretting every decision he’d ever made. His bones ached doubly from last night, joints sore from his awkward position. Sans picked pieces of wet, undigested fabric out from between his teeth and scraped a clod out of the back of his mandible. He shuddered as a sickening feeling took hold. He wanted to heave.

( _Good to know pillows aren’t made of magic._ )

His sniveling calmed a touch once it was all out of his mouth, ignoring the drool-and-feathering for now. Sans laid there, staring at the lab ceiling lights through squinted eye sockets, searching for calm.

 _Something_ was tickling his spine.

_“Golly Sans, you really would eat anything, wouldn’t you?”_

Sweating bullets, he practically leaped to his metatarsals with energy he didn’t know he had left, frantically stepping away from the futon and yanking up his sweater. That fucking flower, when did he get into the lab!? Why should he be so surprised really, that nasty weed had a tendency to-

The culprit was something else entirely, though the unease didn’t recede. Dozens of small downy feathers were trapped in his ribcage, clinging and twirling about lazily. Not only were they uncomfortably close to his SOUL, his perfect little pudgy belly was completely gone. There was only empty space between his ribs and his pelvis, and his waistband sloped down his ilium precariously after having been stretched out.

It felt a little like finding his own dust. Partially he mourned, but mostly he felt… Nothing. It made sense, Sans realized as he absently plucked a couple feathers out  where he could. Most physical sensations came through his self-formed magic rather than the binding stuff in his bones. It was a wonder he felt the ticklish intrusion at all.

“alphys,” He called out tiredly. “i… i think i need some help.” It was weirdly quiet in the lab. “please?”

“Hang on a sec, I’ll be right up,” Undyne hollered back. Sans clamped his teeth together, biting down hard. Fuck, had he woken up before school? He fished out his phone to look. Huh, no, it should have begun an hour ago-

 _Oh good heavens what divine blessing did Toriel bestow on Undyne to give her the power to produce something as gorgeous as that…?!_  She came upstairs holding a plate of french toast, heaped with caramelized crabapple slices and syrup - and minus the charcoal which was usually a “staple” of Undyne’s culinary masterpieces. Sans dropped his sweater and mandible, staring with predatory intent.

He was going to eat that. Tiptoeing forward, he watched her intently as he trembled with his intense craving. A little closer. Just a little closer now. Almost-

Undyne reached out to wrap her hand around his skull, holding him away form the plate and snarling at him unexpectedly. Sans shook, struggling pathetically against her hold to try to reach out for his sweet, sweet savior.

“Stop drooling for a second and listen to me now, punk,” She snarled at his face. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” The obvious pun fell on his deaf ears, eyelights raising up to meet her eyes with rising panic. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I know one thing for sure - I’m not tolerating it, Sans!”

“wh… wha…” 

She squinted, her razor sharp teeth looking pointier by grace of proximity. “You lied to Papyrus, roped Alphys in on the cover up, and kept us both up all night with your sniveling! Do you _really_ think I’m too dumb to notice?” His bones rattling, Sans’ eyelights dimmed. Alphys must have told her the truth… Though Undyne probably grilled her for it after last night. He didn’t know they were sleeping together in the lab…

But that didn’t matter now. He was busted, and of course Undyne was going to tell Papyrus. Papyrus, who was already upset with him. Sure seemed like Sans was a pro at royally fucking things up, huh? _This_ was why he hated trying… This was it, right here… The _only_ way he could do something right was if he did _nothing at all_. He couldn’t even save himself now, struck in her grip and too drained to teleport. Part of him wished for those feathers floating around to cut into his weak, pathetic SOUL already.

“And another thing!! Keeping such big news about the barrier a secret is wrong! I ought to sock you one for King Asgore’s memory alone!”

“then do it,” he said nonchalantly, ignoring his better judgement, and drowning in how little he felt. Undyne’s grip tightened out of fury, looking on with as much incredulous anger as if he had just slapped her back.

“No?? Don’t ask for that-!”

“i don’t want any of this either,” He confessed. “i don’t know what to tell paps. i don’t want everyone hearing what i did and thinking i’m some hero of the people like you. i never wanted to start up so many lies and i _sure as hell_ don’t want to be laying in your lab starving myself to death for the sake of scientific research.” Sans blinked tiredly and rolled his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “but here i am, right? and there it is, all of my piss poor decisions. so go on, if you’re feeling up to bringing me to justice, i’m _all_ for it.”

Undyne didn’t seem to know how to handle it, loosening her hold on him and smoothing her hand over his round skull after nearly digging her nails into it moments before. Her scales were surprisingly soft when she wasn’t so tense.

“You’re a total idiot, Sans. Don’t talk like that.”

“talk like what? _you’re_ the one who threatened me.”

“That wouldn’t make anything better and you know it.” ( _Clearly I don’t know what better is._ ) He just stared at her until she strangled out a frustrated sound, pushing him along back to the knotted up futon he left behind. “Ugh, you even take the easy way out of getting yelled at too! Lay down before you fall over again.” Sans stared at the feathery mess of his sleeping spot then flopped down onto the couch instead, eyeing the french toast.

“are those for me,” He hazard a guess.

“No, I was intending to punish you by having you watch _me_ eat them. But now it feels a little like overkill.”

“a little? that’s _cruel_ , undyne. i’d rather be punched.”

“You ask OR imply that one more time and I’m telling Papyrus to take you to a shrink!”

“ok.” She rolled her eyes and stomped off with the plate, heading downstairs again. Sans pulled up his shirt to inspect his fluffy acquisitions, delicately and idly picking them out. At least he was too numb to feel their ticklishness in full force. It was just… Awkward. Mostly troublesome. He tried to remove them by blowing on them, taking deep breaths, but they adamantly clung to the inside of his sternum.

He was a little surprised to see Undyne return.  At lest she didn’t bring some horrible temptation this time. “What _are_ you doing?”

“well, they say you are what you eat. today i happen to be part polyester fabric and part goose feather.”

She stared at the down trapped in his skeletal body then surveyed the carnage of his midnight feast, amusement slowly taking over her expression. She grinned, eye squinted. “You _tried to eat your pillow_?”

“the operative word here is: _tried_. my bad.”

“Haha! No wonder she told me not to leave you alone.” Well, technically Sans had told Alphys that before, but it was good to see Alphys understood the 'why’ now enough to give him a sitter. Undyne kneeled beside the couch and picked at it with silent, remarkable dexterity. Once no more feathers were within reach, she drew a deep breath and blew on his ribs and the resulting wet and hollow whistle made him shrink back in mild alarm.

“wow, give me a warning next time?”

“What, that feel weird?”

“maybe. has anyone ever tried improvising your head fins as a kazoo?”

“No, but I’d personal-space-suplex them into the Capital!”

“that’s too bad, i think it’d be worth a try. but, yanno, being allergic to suplexes and all that.” Sans’ phone vibrated and he took it out, frowning slightly when he saw it was Papyrus.

* HELLO SLEEPY BONES!

*** hey**

* IT’S OK SANS! IT WASN’T HARD TO EXTRADITE!

*** extrapolate**

*** if ur going to keep doing this im gonna get u a dictionary**

Sans found a way to smile at his brother, recalling him trying to read books way out of his level of understanding. It was a shame there had been a shortage of new material lately, especially in the fields he excelled in. Undyne leered, breaching the skeleton’s comfort zone.

“What’s so hard about telling him?” He lowered his phone to look at her, measuring her up. Undyne had been harping on him for years for his lack of physical fitness and the food he managed to sell and/or stuff into his face. She even brought that treadmill into their house and planted it in the middle of his room. As lovely of a centerpiece as it was, seemed a tad imposing for his style. Out of anyone, _she_ had the most influence on Papyrus’ opinion. 

She was the _very_ last person who would ever 'get’ his conundrum.

“something along the lines of being a walking disappointment,” He muttered, typing up a pending reply to Papyrus’ string of emoticons. His answer dodge worked, distracting her from what specifically he was a disappointment for.

“You’re being ridiculous, Papyrus adores you, and he’d probably be so proud of what you did! Besides, I thought "being a disappointment” was your lifestyle.“

"being a disappointment involves others putting expectations on you that you can’t fulfill, and suffering through the social stigma as a result. that’s not exactly a particular form or goal anyone would aim for.” He timed his look at Undyne to let her clearly know she was a contributor, but didn’t single her out on it. 

“Okay, and _still_ Papyrus has never called you a disappointment, evenly privately. He’s just worried about you.” She hesitated before adding, “if he comes to me about this, I’m telling him. Just letting you know now.” 

If he… comes to her? Sans blinked slowly, struggling to read his former captain. 

“what?”

“I’m telling him about the barrier bone piece and the screwed up starving project you’re doing with Al-”

“no, the first part. if he comes to you? so you _haven’t_ already told him?” She gathered up the little feathers on the floor into a pile, shrugging.

“This has nothing to do with me.” Undyne’s face twisted into a malicious grin, adding, “if you hurt his feelings though, I’m gonna make your life a living hell, squirt!”

Her threat passed through him like a gentle breeze and Sans deleted the drafted text in his phone with great relief. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Time flows differently from each person’s point of view, and the measurement may be far more exacting than one might imagine. In Sans’ case, while starving, the longer time wore on after a particular threshold was met, the faster it seemed to go.

Now, he didn’t imagine his lack of magic was causing a space-time vortex by any means, nor did he have the resources to isolate when the transition happened and he shifted from “everything feels like its taking forever” to “everything feels like its going too fast”. Obviously it was a matter of his conscious awareness having rough patches. He estimated it fell somewhere between micro-sleep, real naps and his information retention dropping off for a lack of magic to process it with.

Sans thought he mentioned all of this in passing to Alphys when she came by with the Core blueprints several hours ago, but he wasn’t sure anymore. Somehow, her trying to pry an eraser out of his mouth was the only thing that stood out to him.

It was brought to his attention that he’d been saying and texting really weird stuff during his moments of consciousness. His last text to Papyrus ended up being a picture of a dresser drawer he pulled from the Undernet with the caption “the final straw”. So what if he didn’t know what he was saying or doing? It didn’t matter either way. At least he got to the point that nothing hurt anymore.

“Y-Yes, Y-Your Highness, I-I understand,” Alphys strolled past him with her phone, holding it out to Sans. “H-Here, she wants to t-talk to you.” He stared at her. She fidgeted nervously with the length of his silence and took his carpals, wrapping the phalanges around the phone. At that point he caught up on his own, bringing his hand up to clink it softly against his skull.

“hi.”

“Hello! I’m glad I _goat_ to talk to _ewe._ ”

“cool tori. nice.” 

“…I have been a bit worried though. How is the test going?”

“uh…” Sans blinked hard and stopped staring at the ceiling lights, finding it hard to readjust. “what?”

“The test to see what your magic can do? Um, I think that was it?” She waited patiently before prompting him again with, “So how is it?”

“oh its good shit. that some good shit right there. right. there. if i do say so myself. i say so myself.” He started laughing at the end of it, mumbling more.

“Oh my heavens, don’t meme me when I’m trying to be serious!” Toriel started snickering on the other end of the line though, mixed in with a couple of snorts. Sans felt a little lighter, trying to snuggle into the couch which had long ago become a sort of prison. “Sans? Are you still there?”

“mmhmm…”

“Are you falling asleep? … Okay. At least hand the phone back to Alphys, dear.”

“i like… listenin’ to yer voice…”

“O-Oh- haha! I’m flattered. Well… I guess I could hum you to sleep?” He was already relaxed and dozing off, but she began to hum something that seemed familiar… Naturally, combing through his thoughts now, he couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe he could ask her later…

He was shaken awake what felt like only a minute later, the tune lilting in the back of his skull and phone long pried away from him. “Saaans?” Alphys was leaning over him, both claws wrapped around his humerus to hold him upright. His eyesockets blinked unevenly before he woke up enough to straighten out his vertebrae.

“wazzit?”

“I um, I think w-we should start now. We d-don’t want to get into your essential magic stores, s-since you’re not going to be using that on the b-barrier.” Essential? Oh yeah, the magic he needed to live by. The stuff that mixed with his dust to make bones. Though, if it came down to that…

He’d rather know what that was, too. Besides, if he went through all of this trouble getting control information on his magic absorption and capacity, then he couldn’t waste this opportunity by not going _all the way_.

“let’s jus’ … go a lil longer,” He mumbled and stretched out his mandible in a yawn, leaning back against her support. “m’ not gonna do this again.”

“A-Are you sure? I-It’s going on three days, a-and w-we’re getting a little worried about h-how much you’re sl-sleeping. Maybe I should g-get a scan right now as it is-”

“s'ok, i’m fine. jus’ gimme 'nother…” He yawned again, eyesockets drooping. “like… hour 'rso…” Alphys continued to hold him, feeling torn over what to do. Although he’d nearly slept through the last measured day, he still bore rings under his eyesockets and seemed almost… well, almost like he had shriveled. He looked frail and small and nothing like her goofy, lazy friend with a big appetite. Just the fact he was offering to wait on eating made her itch with concern.

“An hour. You want a..another hour?” He bobbed his head as his vision swam and lethargy held tight. Yeah… he could handle another hour. More sleep was all he wanted like this, even if it was an uncomfortable sleep.

“tired…” She squirmed, looking back over towards her work table before sighing with resignation.

“O…Okay. B-But no delay after that, a-alright? I-I’m scared of you fal–um, g-getting sick l-like… this…”

“k,” He exhaled and fell asleep almost instantly, nestling into the dark but comforting void. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Slap!_ A hand flew across his cheekbone without reservation, considering his face was no soft surface. It wasn’t hard enough to bring him pain, but it was hard enough that he could feel that they _meant it_. It dragged him out of his starving coma to stare bleakly at Undyne, his processing several seconds delayed. 

That… was weird? What did he do now, to deserve being hit?

“About time! You’re not gonna get away with scaring Alphys like that, punk,” She grinned playfully. “Time to eat up already!” Sans sat there blankly, and his eyesockets drooped again as he only managed to process that there was no immediate threat present. He… needed to… rest…

“What now…? He’s not…”

“I-I-I don’t- know…! This- i-is m-my fault, I shou-shouldn’t have…”

“Shh, keep calm, okay? He’s okay. This is fine. …I’m just… gonna-”

Sans’ mouth was forced open. He squirmed a little, uncomfortable, until a spoon slid between his teeth and deposited in sweet, berry-flavored– ( _mmmh!_ ) –thick and soft and sugary and creamy _sustenance_ , saturating him, permeating all of his senses, drowning him suddenly in a flood of flavor. It felt like getting into a soothing hot bath after being numb, cold, and caked in mud for far too long. Instantly the ice cream turned to magic and his eyelights blinked, lighting up with new vigor and clarity and lifting to watch-

 _Undyne_? She shoved more into his mouth, which now hung open more out of disbelief than from her wrenching it open. Delicious creamy pleasure tingled along his mandible and excited him, small tremors sending quivers throughout his entire frame. The former royal guard didn’t seem to notice yet, as she was too busy scraping as much of the pink goop up as she could force in with a single spoon.

“Come on,” She muttered in concentration. He made no moves to stop her, instead leaning forward slightly to take the goop with open willingness. Undyne broke into a bit of a smile, clearly relieved. “Good! Keep going.” She didn’t stop and neither did he. He gripped the edges of his chair to keep upright, shaking elbows clattering into his clothed ribs. They felt… almost hollow. He closed his eyes again and focused on the magic spreading out again from his SOUL.

With the return of his awareness came the return of the merciless hunger pains, before long. His face contorted and groaned mid-bite of ice cream, and he shook even harder as ghost pains gnawed at his ribs. She wrapped a hand under the back of his cranium, holding him still to feed him. “Come on, ya big baby! You should _like_ having to do nothing but eat.”

He _did_ , but he was too preoccupied with wrapping his mouth around more to answer that anyway. The ice cream was quickly turning into a sludge thanks to the unrelenting heat, spilling out sloppily as she jabbed more in him. He had gathered enough magic to lick his chops with a summoned tongue as she reached for more, scraping the sides of the bowl. Sans was gasping and panting, pining between spoonfuls as each took more time to gather up. Undyne was struggling to keep a constant flow.

Heated and dissatisfied, he finally reached out and snatched the bowl away from her, tilting it back to gulp down the last easy mouthful. She leaned back in surprise then laughed, looking back at Alphys who was watching the entire scene with a deep red flush across her face.

“Haha! Looks like someone’s back to normal.”

“S… Sans? A- _Are_ you okay now?”

“ _ **mmmm**_ , i need moah,” he breathed heavily while licking out the bowl’s interior.

“W-Well, that IS the plan,” She confessed with a sigh of relief, pulling down a lever and squeezing out more soft serve from the machine. Alphys marched over with the bowl but didn’t have to even pass it to him. Sans reached out desperately with both hands and stole it away. He pushed the bowl into his face without any need of a utensil and scarfed down strawberry ice cream in sloppy, noisy mouthfuls. ( _Oh sweet mercy…_ ) Sans ate like it would be taken from him if he so much as blinked, sucking it down loudly.

Undyne squinted, face scrunching up. “Ugh, gross.” He puffed a moment from his intoxicated inhaling, glancing up at Undyne over the rim of the bowl, and winked at her with a sleazy grin.

“you’re, _shhk shluc_ k, the one who was just, _smck_ _hff_ , stuffing me to the **_gills_**.”

“Oh my god? Ya’ nasty, that ISN’T what happened at all!” Her head swiveled to her partner, who was anxiously collecting the first empty bowl and skittering back to the machine. “Tell him, Alphys!”

“Um, uh,” She stammered and shook, hiding her face as she filled up another bowl. “Y-You should s-slow down a little, Sans, i-it’s not good to eat that fast.”

“Oh come on, please don’t change the subject like that!” Undyne turned back to Sans as he snickered, a deadly serious air washing over her. “Almost falling down is **not** funny, bonehead. If you wanna laugh, I’ll be happy to give you a knuckle sandwich next.” He was too preoccupied with inhaling the remains of the second helping, settling for a bowl-bobbing nod of submission.

“Undyne, you don’t h-have to stick around for this. It’ll be a while before we can get some results anyway.”

“neither of you, _sssslurp_ , do,” He breathed out as soon as the ice cream was vanquished and lapped at the sides of the bowl lovingly, having calmed and slowed from his initial, feverish pace. “ _bruup_! s’not like i’m goin’ anywhere. are you measuring how much by serving, or…?”

“Oh! N-No, I know how much seaweed we’ve already loaded in, so I can just take away from the max volume. Plus, w-we need to calculate how much mana potency your absorption process takes out, too, so w-we’ll scan you when you’re done eating what you can.” Sans at least waited this time for her to hand over the refilled bowl before diving into it voraciously. He couldn’t help but scarf it down, taking in whole, soft mouthfuls of ice cream and swallowing it back in big gulps. Alphys frowned as some pink spatters flecked her glasses and she backed away, removing them to wipe clean. “P-Please don’t eat yourself sick in my lab, this seems like it’s going to be enough of a mess as it is…”

“mmmh, i nehber do,” He rumbled around the melting strawberry cream.

“If you _do_ get sick, you’re cleaning it up!” Undyne grinned back broadly, sauntering out ahead of Alphys. The doctor seemed to watch him a bit more keenly, moving away slowly.

“Um, g-give me a text when you finish or uh, n-need anything.” Sans rose a hand to lazily wave her off, face still pressed into the sides of the bowl. He finished the bowl off with gusto and looked around.

Hmm, they were gone, leaving him to his binge in privacy. He felt a bit more relaxed; despite how showy he had just been, nervousness was still creeping into his bones like pins and needles. It wasn’t like his bar buddies chanting for him to chug ketchup bottle after ketchup bottle, and _this_ wasn’t some ordinary ‘filling up’. 

Sans threw himself at the machine, foregoing the bowl immediately and pulling down the lever to serve it directly into his mouth like a keg. He felt crazed with hunger, sucking down the smooth, tasty concoction. It was doubly cold right out of the machine and a different kind of pain prickled in his temporal bones. He was able to ignore it for now, keeping up with the spiraling deposit.

He ate at least two more full bowls worth like this. Catching what he could, he allowed his magical tongue to wrestle it, wrapping around the soft serve stream in a sweet embrace. Literally. Sans threw the lever and finished swallowing down the large sum, which nearly spilled over his overfull mouth. He choked it down and blinked hard, frigid magic trickling up into his eyesockets. Was the magic distributing unevenly? This was unfamiliar.

Oh shoot, his stomach - He was so ravenously hungry, he nearly forgot his episode of starvation had required him to cannibalize the magical sack entirely! He leaned away and pulled his sweater up, finding- a plump little pot belly connecting his ribs to his pelvis.

 _His tummy was back!!_ He beamed in joy only to be interrupted by a loud hiccup ripping through him, joints in his shoulders popping out from the sudden force. “ _ **HIC**_!” Sans bounced along with it, and the magic in his skull erupted into a new pain with the surge. “oooogh,” The skeleton groaned and screwed his eyesockets shut from the pain, then took the nearest seat to massage his temporal bones tenderly. Augh, he felt his head throbbing with magic… Was there some reason Alphys was telling him not to eat so fast…? This didn’t usually happen…

“hic,” He swallowed and leaned back. Well, since he was down for a moment… curiously, Sans reached down to feel the restored organ. Amazingly, he could feel the plush ice cream magic like a rich crushed velvet. It had a bit more body than other, similar things he’d swallowed in his travels. Most remarkably, it was cold to the touch! There _had_ to be a connection to the temperature and his headache… He had never eaten so much frozen food at once before, so all of this was a new challenge.

He pressed his tongue between his teeth, stalking over to the machine despite jolts of hiccups and looking it over lustfully. Could he adjust it a little? That wouldn’t skew the results, right? Evaluating Alphys’ setup, he changed a couple of settings, the machine vibrating. For a tense moment, Sans worried he had done something terribly wrong and broken it as he listened to the clunking and clanking. It stopped, but not before he had drenched himself in a fine coat of nervous sweat.

“o…okay,” He reassured himself with a deep breath and pulled down the lever experimentally. A hose overhanging the table, one he hadn’t thought was part of this setup as it was set aside, began to spew liquid, making him jump up in shock and throw the lever back. It stopped, dribbling out the slushy pink-

 _Wait just a minute_ , was it converting the ice cream to a milkshake? Sans licked the spill off of the ground without qualm, closing his eyes and tasting the extra creaminess and rich, frothy flavor the ice cream took on. It wasn’t biting cold, but it still definitely brought relief from Hotland’s heat.

_It was perfect._

Sans set himself up with the hose held between his teeth and pulled down the lever. He began sucking in the milkshake. The flow came faster even than the ice cream, almost overwhelming him at first before he matched the pace. He guzzled it down in time, happier than a newborn suckling away at an endless bottle. Talk about a total pleasure cruise. 

Sans smiled to himself as he could feel his stomach grow in response, pushing out. It wasn’t like other times when his stomach was forced to bloat bigger to take more food than it was currently shaped to hold - there was no pain. It stretched freely and even tickled just a smidgen, wriggling beneath his phalanges. He likened it to a balloon re-inflating after it had already been inflated once before, rubbing it as the blue magic and white acted in tandem. So much gurgling goodness… It was a creamy dream. The only way it could get better was with some fries and bacon…. Mmmh, he felt his saliva drip through his teeth, lost in a heavenly experience.

But alas, he blew up rather quickly. His haze of sweet indulgence made it pretty easy to lose sense of time… And boundaries. Another, teensy hiccup twitched through and he shifted, blinking sleepily down. What was the hold up? It was getting tighter, but he didn’t have that… _Full_ feeling yet. That knowing of his limit. That magical peak and descent into blissful darkness. Annoyed, Sans turned off the machine after running it for several minutes, taking a deep gasp of air to compensate for the shorter breaths.

With his attention focused solely on his gut, he was amazed to find his baggy clothes were _failing_. That darned waistband was cutting sharply and sliding down to escape the encroaching ecto-fat. Even more shocking, his big, thick sweater - the one which always seemed to cover all of his heavy curves and masked the shameful extra helpings he sneaked around Papyrus - was _taut_ , riding high against his ribcage.

But his stomach… It was beautiful. A golden glowing blue, healthy and heavy with magic. Sans’s eyes twinkled in delight as he realized he couldn’t even see the underside of it. No wonder his clothes were tight, he was _huge_. And so soon! The relief of his massive recovery from even just an hour or two ago… He burped out his thanks loudly, eyeing up a lot of air pockets.

Those troublesome little bubbles… He seriously needed to make this the biggest stuffing ever, and they were making things needlessly uncomfortable. He drew himself up in his seat, his belly wobbling and bouncing along with the movement as he reclined back. The redistribution of weight forced him to take a minute to straighten out his balance and the kinks in his spine. Sans huffed for air, kneading and squeezing the spots where they gathered.

##  **“BUUURP!** _hic-_ **MRRUUUGHF!”**

“u _uRRUGH! **Brrrup!** Hhhf_ ,” He puffed as he took out a couple more knotted up spots. Sans spent several minutes poking and prodding, nudging them through his thick gut and bursting the empty magic pockets, burping them out. There were _so many_ more he couldn’t seem to even budge, deeply embedded inside him as if encased in amber. It was… A little frustrating. And tiring. It was _really_ tiring. Sans was _gased_.

So he did what he did best: giving up. Popping the hose end back in, he threw the lever with his magic since he could no longer reach it from where he was reclining. Sans sucked…And sucked…And sucked… Pain and pleasure began to intersect. He kept going. Folding more in. Beginning to feel truly full. He couldn’t keep up with the steady flow of the pump and milkshake spilled over him, but he desperately clung. 

Sans finally called it quits, threw the lever and laid there, swimming between ecstasy and severe discomfort. Quiet, short gasps grounded him, and he groggily lifted his skull to stare. So pretty… so full. That sweater was interfering, and he wriggled to remove his now-suffocating clothing. For good measure, he tugged his pants lower to allow the hanging pudge more relief. 

He hadn’t seemed to grow at all since his last rest point, but those air pockets were definitely more sparse now. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth as he strained and heaved, trying to roll over on his side. The amount of effort it required surprised him enough to giggle to himself, rubbing his tummy down. It was making an almost purring sound from all of the magic buzzing around inside. So _nice_.

“y’aren’t done already- _hic!_ a-are ya, bud?” Obviously it didn’t respond, but he sure as hell looked longingly at the miraculous construct anyway. ( _Just… a little more… you know you’ve felt more full before._ ) That was true, but he’d never been this big before. He felt _enormous_. Sans resumed another comfortable position, cradling the tube and flicking it back on once more.

Regret bit into him hard as no sooner than his first gulp had gotten down. His stomach cramped up. He curled as much as he could with a pitiful whimper, grimacing as his breath hitched. The whole room was spinning. It wasn’t sickening, not _yet_ , it was just… exhausting. Sans squinted and impulsively squeezed the worst spot.

##  **“BBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLCCCCHHHHHH!”**

He hit a sweet spot, evidently. The magic cascaded down, washing a cool wave of relief over him on the coattails of his disgusting expulsion of air. Sans licked his chops dryly, then snaked his tongue into the tube laying besides him. He lapped it up gently, blinking hazily. That strawberry was still so tasty… Once he’d finished cleaning up the sticky goop in reach, he flicked the machine back on. 

To his pleasant surprise, the deep gulps came without major incident. Sans moaned in desire around the end of the hose, swallowing down even more magic and tenderly rubbing the rise of his belly. He hiccup and laughed, giddy with his results. Sans finally felt his whole body tighten up like a highly magnetized coil and turned off the machine to lazily slurp at the remaining liquid. He stayed reclined there in total satisfaction, almost asleep before he remembered he needed to let Alphys know he was done. Shifting to reach down pressed uncomfortably into his gut, so Sans opted instead to remove the phone from his pants pocket with magic instead. 

*** getgg**

His vision swam, only managing to type something unintelligible to send to Alphys before he slipped back into a hearty nap…

 

 

 

…Even if only for a few minutes before he stirred, waking up to Alphys gingerly prodding his distended gut. She flinched away in surprise as he looked. She was a flustered mess. “A-uh-I didn’t… S-Sorry, you texted and I- a-are you okay?” 

“heh heh heh heh,” He chuckled, wincing a little as the vibrations rocked his stomach. “i’m- _hrk_. ahhh… _really_ good…” His stomach rose and fell with his restricted breathing, and it was so soothing to watch Sans almost slipped back into sleep. 

“We–sporption rate is rema—ther room. Come on,” Alphys tugged on his humerus, the words indistinguishable. He wondered why she was talking so funny? Oh well, if he _had_ to get up, then… Sans got as far as propping himself up on his elbows before his gut squashed down against his femurs, keeping them from lifting any further. He realized he’d have to roll off over the side and the way things were swimming _already_ … Sans thought he wouldn’t find the ground beneath his carpals, certain instead that he would fall through helplessly, like he’d taken a bad jump, and land - _splat_ \- just a boney pancake on the ground somewhere.

Then again, the way randomness worked, he could _also_ land on something soft and cushy like a _burger bun…_ A giant burger bun. Maybe soaked with ketchup and grease. He giggled and drooled, not at all helpful to the poor doctor trying to ease him up.

“Ugh! Huff, S-Sans are you trying?”

“nah…”

“Please, I need you to get up…!”

“mmh… can it wait? i’m… gonna just stop by… grillbz…” He chewed at the air for his phantom burger, nodding off as his teeth gnashed quietly. Alphys smacked a claw to her forehead then shook his torso.

“Sans no! It can’t wait! W-Wake up, you’re **not** eating anymore…!” She struggled to get him sitting upright. He didn’t seem to like his bones getting rattled, and loosed a small burp, his stomach groaning.

“n–nnooo… i don’t _wanna_ diet,” Sans whined as his head lolled, resisting. “is’not fair…” The Doctor paused, hands on both clavicle bones to keep him steady and staring at his face in contemplation. 

“O-Oh… Is that really…?” Drool dribbled down on her hands and she cringed away in disgust, grabbing either side of his cheekbones in renewed frustration. “Auuugh-! Wake! Up!” He blinked, one eyesocket then the other, leaning forward into her hands until his forehead was resting against her shoulder.

“heyyy alphhh… whenn’dyuouu get here…? heh heh _hic_ …” She flinched slightly at the sensation of his magic-flushed face, leaning back and drawing him away from the recliner.

“W-Wow. Okay… Sans, you can lay down, but only i-if we get you scanned first. R-Ready? Let’s…” He precariously followed her lead headfirst, stumbling onto his feet. She let go of his face to reach around his backside, keeping him from tumbling over. It was quite a balancing act to juggle, especially as Sans alternated between willingly standing upright on his own and trying to lay back down every couple of steps. He was far too big to carry, unlike a couple hours before. 

“Yo, what’s the hold up?” Undyne came in pursuit, stopping to stare at the two. Sans teetered, flushing blue and grinning like an idiot, Alphys with her arms wrapped around him, sighing with a desperate look. Her face scrunched up as she stared fixated on his engorged stomach. “…Alright, I gotta hand it to you. That’s disgusting _and_ impressive at least.”

“thanksss,” He staggered, grinning wide and chuckling as if it was honestly a joke. Alphys bit the inside of her cheek, grateful as her partner came over to his other side and took up more of the burden.

“Th-Thank you, he’s so saturated in magic, I-I think he’s become d-delusional? A…At the very least, intoxicated?”

“He was delusional when he was hungry, he’s delusional when he’s full,” She ranted, annoyed and lifting him more off of his feet. “You’re just screwed up in the skull, you know that, Sans?”

He laughed breathlessly, freed from trying to keep up as he was carried off.


	7. Walls Between Us, New Home mall's food court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (( Here it is, your eagerly anticipated chapter! Though, any day that began with a milkshake binge like that should be a good day.
> 
> Today’s OC cameo, Fruit the pygmy seahorse, belongs to @roonienoonie! As well as Chiller the skeleton being mentioned, the lovely little bundle of smol made by @blushingmess !
> 
> Remember, I’m still just taking OCs for possible mild use, I’ve got enough chapters to use them here and there. Refer to this post about how to submit your OC! We also take suggestions on what to eat, notes here!
> 
> You can find the compilation of Sans’ Sin Quest chapters linked in the sidebar of this blog under “Masterpost”! Also, our ko-fi donation widget is there too, just in case you want to feed an irl skele with your love & money. ♥
> 
> Lastly, since this is a double update today with 2 chapters floating around, read this chapter before the Gaining Games chapter! ))

Sans woke up feeling particularly grimy. He was still drowsy and his tummy warbled quietly underneath his bony hands. Somehow he’d wound up in a bed again, and the sheets were stuck to his ribs and spine. He peeled them off to look down at himself with disbelief.

He… _He did it_. The last few days were all just a blur at this point, but his stuffed belly laid there at rest, ballooned thanks to his perseverance. Sans grinned at it and rubbed it up and down lovingly, sighing at the plush warmth. It felt so nice… _He_ felt good too, despite the dried up sugary cream coating much of him. He dug his phalanges in harder but found it quickly brought discomfort. Yep, he was full. _Very_ full.

Tucking his arms behind his pillow, he sank in place and relished the tranquility and occasional burbles. There was so much magic, he wondered if he could literally fly with it all. Certainly, he felt _high as a kite_. Sans reached again to lavish his magical container with circular strokes. The bright contents swirled around, lighting up the dark room like a huge field of echo flowers. When he stopped rubbing, the magic settled back down to an even, solid-looking glow. ( _Heh, can’t even see through to my pelvic bone down there…_ )

He probably would have just gone back to sleep if he hadn’t seen and heard his cell skittering across the nightstand. Curious, he reached out and took it and found a text from Toriel.

* Sans, Alphys told me the experiment was a success! ]:) Please call me!

It was? Oh… yeah, there was more to this, wasn’t there? As hard as he tried, he couldn’t recall anything about the results. Well, talking to Tori would have to wait. Besides, if it was good news, he’d rather tell her in person. He decided to text Alphys, who could likely refresh his memory.

*** hey got results yet?**

He had to wait a couple of minutes, and contemplated getting up to go find her. He was still definitely at her place, and he kinda needed a shower anyhow… However, his cell vibrated before he could motivate himself to move.

* [ Ohayou! (=＾▽＾=) how’re u feline?? ]

* [ FEELING *** ]

* [ OMG please ignore that!! （−＿−；） Autocorrect is such a mistake LOL ]

*** im good**

* [ Yatta! Okay let me just find the printout! ]

Some more time passed as he waited for the results. He began checking over older messages, Papyrus and Toriel having sent the most. Alphys updated her Undernet status complaining about spilled coffee and he chuckled to himself.

*** i can just come by and look if you want**

* [ NO it’s okay!! We have to run the second half of the test anyway, so you might as well rest! (〇o〇；) ] **  
**

*** ½?**

* [ Reproducing the scenario to prove your theory! It was your suggestion ٩̋(•᷄◟̵◞̵•᷅‧̣̥̇)’`~✧ ] **  
**

*** ok rite**

He had entirely forgotten, but that didn’t change his mind about wanting to do it. There was no sense going forward if they couldn’t establish what exactly happened back there that enabled him to lodge a bone in the barrier.

* [ Here, tell me if this works! ]

Alphys sent a photo of the reports on her computer screen. Sans _roughy_ understood what most of the numbers meant. How much magic was required to move a stone of standard mass and composition was a common measurement, and it could be applied to questions of force required. In fact, that was a story Gaster had told him often, about how he became the first Royal Scientist for Asgore by quantifying the applied force needed to dig their way out of the ruins.

This was _more_ than that number.

It was actually… Hard to wrap his skull around the fact he had so much unused magic reserved? His self-identity was weak, fat, and lazy, but above all of these, _weak_. He felt exhausted by doing anything at all, let alone serious work like these numbers implied he was _more than capable of_. Good thing magical food processes were really abundant underground or else that little edge of guilt in his SOUL would have gripped him. 

*** it works**

*** whats mtb**

* [ I made a new measurement conversion you might find interesting! (＝⌒▽⌒＝) Mtb is for Mettaton’s Battery output, which is measured according to his current model, so I guess in the future that might be useless… (๑’Δ’๑) lol shimatta. ]

*** ur kidding??**

*** .7504 mtb thats a joke rite**

* [ Not exactly, but this is literally the best part Sans!! ヾ(≧∇≦*)ゝYou’re reading the wrong line, that’s the mana measurement from the milkshake you ingested ]

* [ At the bottom is your reading, .938 mtb! ]

If he was shocked before, he was floored.now That was, what, a 20% increase between the milkshake’s reading and his own reading? How the hell was _that_ the best part? If the math didn’t add up, then they did something wrong…! His stomach tightened with rising anxiety, and he typed out a reply as quick as he could.

*** what caused such a big discrepncy**

When she didn’t reply fast enough for his taste, he shot off another text, shaking. He _can’t_ have that much magic, it _has_ to be a mistake. Sans was already planning to go find the biggest, industrial-sized ketchup bottle he could, lock himself away in his lab, and drown himself for his total ineptitude.

*** alphys if ur gon tell me i didt starv mysfl enuf this project ends here i cant do this agan**

* [ No Sans! You did fine! (つ﹏<。) ]

* [ I had the insight to scan before you ate, you were scary low on magic! Hahaha I thought you were falling down, I don’t know what I would have done if Undyne hadn’t been there! (இ﹏இ`｡) ]

Oh. So that possibility could be eliminated. He exhaled a heavy breath and his anxiety trickled away as he sank into the bed again. He gave his taut belly another soothing rub down. Yeah… no, he was never doing _that_ again…

*** i didnt eat anything else eithr**

* [ I didn’t think so. ]

* [ The base mana reading from the milkshakes comes from the mechanical transference of magic, the same process we use with the Core. The rate at which your body absorbs magic is naturally different but it ]

* [ Is somehow more efficient?? ]

* [ YEAH SO, I’m working on theories about it! ლ(́⚈人⚈‵ლ) But that’s like so cool? You’re making more magic than what you’re even given by our current metrics? ]

He… Supposed that was a correct analysis. Sans laid there, deep in thought, before wiggling upright a little to look at himself. The magic in there seemed gelatinous but solid, not broken into clumps or mixtures like he’d seen in the past, and it was lacking in most air pockets.

There were two things he knew for certain: he’d never been so big before, and he’d never eaten so much before. However, the ceiling was deceptive - this was only bigger and more than _the last time_ he filled up completely, and the time before that. Despite starving himself to near-empty in the past few days, he had still been growing week to week for years before this. He got this far because he _always wanted more_. He wasn’t enough for anything else in his life, but… what if he could just figure out _what was enough_ magic to take down the barrier? And what if _he could have enough magic_ to take down the barrier?

These questions he’d scoffed at and denied himself the luxury in asking seriously seized him now, and he… He didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to go back to feeling worthless. Sans even felt a little… Proud of his tummy? This was _already_ only something he could do, as far as anyone else knew. Now it even had a different meaning outside of pure pleasure? It could help free the monsters from their prison? If Alphys thought it was cool, maybe some other monsters would too… Maybe Papyrus even?

Yeah, okay, that all sounded unlikely, so he took his hopeful thoughts down a peg. Still, what if he got bigger and ate more than this time? Could he manage a 25% increase in magic capacity, or even 30%? How big would he even look then? He felt a shiver run up his spine and gulped down a breath of air to calm his tummy before it began to react too much to his excitement.

“woah there pal,” Sans chuckled and gave it a light pat. “don’t pretend you’re hungry now if you don’t mean it.” Rolling his gut upwards, he shifted down and began texting again, tingling with excitement.

*** u think its cool? well i guess its been a rocky road to figurng this stuff out. im glad u got th scoop 4 me alf**

* [ Someday Sans I will upgrade your phone to shock you when you make these bad jokes. ]

*** u think im milking this?**

*** that souns like a udderly bad idea**

* [ OK funny bones, go back to sleep so I can work! ( ⊙_ʘ ) ]

*** lol k**

*** when u wanna run the bonebrake theory**

* [ If you’re up to it, we can go as soon as I finish changing over this equipment! ]

*** sure**

Ah, blissful nothing-to-do time, just him and his precious tummy. Sans yawned and doubled down on his sheet snuggling, dozing off to thoughts of how it’d feel to not even be able to wrap his arms around his own big belly… What if he could eat an entire table of Grillby’s cooking in a single sitting? How many burgers would that even _be_? He’d make a food journal, but that was way too much effort.

His belly gurgled under his resting phalanges and he giggled to himself, pushing in small motions to watch it jiggle. It didn’t ripple like water, but it could certainly crease and shift, and bulged in one place when shoved from another. It’d be interesting to see how soon he’d become hungry again… But testing if he could break the seal on the barrier again would interfere with that curiosity.

Well, in that case… Sans would probably eat _sooner_ rather than _later_ , if they were going to test in a bit. He smiled dreamily, sighing and drumming his potbelly softly while he dozed off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Sans was not the kind of monster who found enjoyment in violence. Not just in the sense that he was too lazy to ever pick a fight, but just the idea of hurting someone or something else… He loathed it. His SOUL trembled at certain memories, vignettes of fighting Flowey and that… Past anomaly that lingered like a ghost in his mind. He didn’t even like watching Mettaton’s bomb spectaculars or when other monsters fought each other. It felt sickening.

“Oh yeah, _sure_ you can see him! He’s just laying down on the job like usual!”

 _But this shit though_? Despite how gross he would feel over it later, _this_ made him want to hit Undyne over the head with a femur. Sans was fortunately eavesdropping, lingering between sleep and daydreaming.

“WELL, THAT I’M NOT SURPRISED ABOUT!”

As soon as he heard his brother’s booming voice ricochet off the lab walls, he tensed up. Their approaching footsteps further alarmed him and he scrambled desperately to pull himself up against the headboard. He was _completely_ unprepared for this. He looked down at his bare ribs and engorged stomach in panic. ( _I can’t be seen like this! Not until I can tell him **something** …!_) He swiftly snatched his messy sweater from the nightstand where Alphys had mercifully left it and yanked it down over his sharp bones.

Fuck, _of course it still won’t fit_. Sans threw his pillow into his lap just as Undyne kicked the door in, crooked grin matching her fierce eyes. “See? _There’s_ our professional slacker.”

His eyesockets narrowed, returning the glare with as much salt as he could muster and a dry remark of “i guess you caught me _bed_ handed,” through clenched teeth. She didn’t seem to appreciate the returned ire or joke and scowled back, then stared pointedly at him awkwardly clutching the pillow in his pudgy lap.

Their dear, sweet Papyrus, however, remained entirely oblivious of this threatening exchange. “BROTHER,” He chirped and brushed past Undyne to enter the room. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE HERE TO WORK!”

“i am working, bro. right now i just happen to be working on my beauty sleep.” Sans continued grinning despite the tight magical spasms in his stomach he was suffering, partly due to the pressure on it and partly due to the stress he was under. Papyrus paused and cupped his jaw in a gloved hand, staring at Sans pensively a moment.

“I MUST SAY… YOU’VE GOT A LONG WAY TO GO STILL.” Sans barked out a surprised laugh then immediately cringed, his magic suddenly feeling as if it was on fire inside him. “BUT DON’T WORRY SANS, I BELIEVE IN YOU! STRIVING FOR BEAUTY IS A GREAT ENDEAVOR, ONE FILLED WITH MAKEUP AND BLOOD SACRIFICE!“

"you got that from mtt, didn’t you.”

“That square doofus is all wrong! Beauty is about HEART!” Undyne braced, flexing unconsciously. “Giving something your all! Crushing everything you care about with the strength of your love!” He watched Papyrus shy away as if that small distance would possibly protect him from a ‘Beauty Suplex’. Sans felt urged to intervene early on his behalf.

“hey… did you hear that?” The two of them paused to try and listen. “that sounded a lot like… alphys crying into her ramen about how lonely she is.” Sans stared at her with dark eye sockets. Undyne looked a little surprised, glancing back through the doorway in consideration, before returning a cocky grin at the brothers.

“Alright you boneheads, fine. I’ll leave ya be.” Sans tried to sigh in relief once she had bolted out, but he was too restricted and the motion turned into several little pants instead. Ugh, he really just… Needed to lay back down, maybe he could sleep this whole exchange off… He felt exhausted all over again.

“WOWIE SANS! YOU REALLY ARE THE MASTER OF GETTING OUT OF ANYTHING.” Groggily, he smiled at his brother more sincerely.

“thanks bro.” Papyrus grabbed the chair out of the corner and sat in it backwards to drape his lanky bones over the back, watching Sans with an unspoken interest. Sans watched in return, trying to ignore how _weird_ it must look to be hiding his portly shape-

“SO WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME?” The question stabbed hard enough to make him reel. He swayed back to study Papyrus, sweating bullets.

“uh, s… soon? we’ve gotta finish up some tests later today…”

“THEN, YOU’LL COME BACK?”

“yeah, i guess? of course.” He didn’t like this at all. Papyrus looked so nervous… What was going on? Sans’ voice took on a defensive edge, prickling, “is something wrong? what happened?”

“NOTHING HAPPENED! AND… NOTHING IS WRONG,” He smiled weakly. Sans’ eyelights dimmed, feeling affronted by the fact his little brother was trying to lie to him… But he was far more upset at himself for _giving Papyrus a reason to_.

“haha. okay bro. let’s cut the crap… tell me what is going on with you.”

“BROTHER,” he started but made a strangled noise, as if fighting something just out of Sans’ sight. All at once, the facade slipped away like sand between his phalanges and Papyrus allowed himself to be upset. “THAT’S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT _YOU_!”

A part of Sans’ SOUL shrank at the concern, crumbling a little inside as he grinned back. “aw come on, nothing’s going on with me…?”

“SANS, THAT ISN’T TRUE!,” his little brother pleaded, sniffling. “YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDING TH-THE GREAT PAPYRUS FOR DAYS-”

“pap, come on, i haven’t been avoiding you! i’ve been working on something, honest…”

“YOU WOULD RATHER DO WORK, WHICH YOU ACTIVELY AVOID, THAN COME HOME FOR ANYTHING? EVEN FOR DINNER WITH ME? OR STORY TIME?” Sans gripped the pillow with surprising force, the magic in his overstuffed belly swirling as if it were a washing machine. Oh, geez, well he clearly hadn’t thought this through. He needed to take responsibility somehow, Papyrus was clearly hurt by his disappearing act.

“no i- paps, i’m _so sorry_ i made you feel that way, i honestly was… please don’t cry,” His voice cracked as he watched Papyrus shake on the chair with welled up eyesockets. Unconsciously pulling his sweater down, Sans threw aside the pillow in sudden disregard for his appearance and rolled his swollen self out of bed, then stepped over to his brother with measured balance. He wrapped his arms around him in a hug and sighed into the tattered scarf. “i’m sorry. you didn’t do anything wrong pap. i won’t do that to you again…”

“YOU… _sniff_ , YOU _DON’T_ HATE ME THEN?”

“papyrus, there is not a living creature which hates you,” Sans asserted firmly, clinging tighter in hopes he could hug the horrible thought out of him. “and i _love_ you, bro, i could never hate you. you’re the coolest and best skeleton ever.”

“I… _AM_ PRETTY COOL.” Papyrus visibly calmed, tucking his radius and ulna under and around Sans’ ribs in a return hug. “EVEN IF YOU DID HATE ME, I WOULD HOPE YOU COULD GIVE ME A CHANCE TO-”

“i _don’t hate you_.” Sans tried hard not be frustrated. “c’mon, why would you even think that?”

“WELL, I PUT YOU ON THAT DIET, AND I REFUSED TO MAKE YOU MEALS,” Papyrus fidgeted uncomfortably under his prolonged grip. “AND THEN YOU STARTED IGNORING MY TEXTS AND CALLS…” Sans felt his bones lock up in place and he stared at a spot on the blank wall with pinprick eyelights.

“ _what_ ,” He breathed out in disbelief. “you think i would _hate you_ over _a diet_?” Papyrus peeled Sans out of the hug, both gloved hands on his scapula and looking at his face searching and sad.

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS UNDERSTANDS YOU LIKE EATING, SANS! AND IT IS NICE TO SEE YOU SO HAPPY WHEN YOU DO! WATCHING YOU ENJOY MY COOKING IS HONESTLY WHAT I LIKE MOST ABOUT COOKING, REALLY.” Sans sheepishly looked down for his slipper-less metatarsals before remembering he couldn’t see any of his lower half over his belly, quickly averting his gaze to the far wall. “BUT, AS YOUR EXCELLENT BROTHER, IT IS STILL MY DUTY TO ENSURE YOU DO NOT HURT YOURSELF.” Oh for fuck’s sake, was he really alluding to his overindulgence as a form of _self harm_? His expression wrinkled in concern as Papyrus continued. “IF YOU WOULD AVOID ME FOR DAYS TO OPT FOR WORK INSTEAD, THEN, PERHAPS YOU ARE ANGRY BECAUSE I WAS TOO HARSH. I DIDN’T MEAN YOU _COULDN’T_ GO TO GRILLBYS, AND YOU _COULDN’T_ EAT. I SHOULD HAVE PRACTICED MORE TACT BEFORE CALLING YOUR STOMACH THING A PROBLEM-”

“ok, stop-”

“SO, I AM SORRY FOR NOT BEING MORE RESPECTFUL. I WAS SCARED THAT I WOULD LOSE YOU TO MAGIC POISONING OR SOMETHING FROM EATING SO MUCH ALL THE TIME. NOW I’M SCARED I’LL LOSE YOU ANYWAY BECAUSE YOU WILL HATE M-”

“stop, stop, _stop_ ,” Sans pleaded, putting his hands up and shifting the surge of his magic into casting bones spelling out “stop” overhead. It was enough to relieve some pressure and quiet Papyrus down. Both skeletons stood there in silence, each only listening to the sounds of Sans’ quiet gasps for cold air as he attempted to further impede the turbulence in his stomach. He had no idea what to say or where to begin with this, but getting Papyrus to calm down before the dam break lead to hysterics was… Something. “okay… let’s start over here…” Sans laid his carpals on his cervical vertebrae, scratching.

“PLEASE? I WOULD APPRECIATE THAT GREATLY,” His brother switched gears entirely. Sans was somewhat shocked he didn’t have whiplash from the transition of upset, desperate Papyrus to beaming bright, puzzle-master proud Papyrus. “YOU SEE, THOUGHTFUL AS I AM, I HAVE SOLVED THIS CONUNDRUM AND NOW KNOW A WAY TO DO IT BETTER THIS TIME! ITS A SPLENDIFEROUS PLAN, WORTHY OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, YOUR COOLEST OF BROTHERS!”

“we don’t have any other brothers, pap, and that isn’t what i-”

“OF COURSE, I WAS TALKING ABOUT HIPPOTHETICAL BROTHERS YOU _COULD_ HAVE, ALL OF WHICH ARE STILL NOT AS COOL AS ME! NYEHEHEH!” Sans just closed his mouth and let Papyrus get it out, botched vocabulary and all. “I THINK YOU SHALL APPROVE, I REALLY OUTDID MYSELF! SO, INSTEAD OF JUST BREAKFAST AND DINNER OCCASIONALLY, I WILL MAKE YOU _ALL_ OF YOUR MEALS! BREAKFAST, LUNCH, AND DINNER, PLANNED AND BALANCED WITH DELICIOUS AND HEALTHY PASTA! THAT WAY YOU CAN ENJOY THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ EXPERT CUISINE AND NOT THE TEMPTATION OF GREASE! AND, _MAYBE_ WE CAN BOTH GO FOR DINNER ONCE A WEEK. JUST FOR A TREAT!  AND I WILL TRY TO TOLERATE THE GREASY FOOD MYSELF SO LONG AS YOU WOULD NOT MIND ME MONITORING YOUR PORTIONS!”

 _Yikes._ At what point was he going to stop him and clue him in on this project with the barrier? Papyrus kept going on, enthusiastically animated as Sans stood there sweating with encroaching dread. This plan of his wasn’t that bad actually, but the sad thing was that if he had _started_ with this instead of what happened the other morning… Sans kind of doubted they’d be standing in Alphys’ lab having this discussion. There were probably several fragmentations of this same event within the timeline, but without someone LOAD and SAVEing, he wouldn’t be able to dissect it further anyway. ( _…What the hell is ‘magic poisoning’, and where the hell did he hear about it?_ ) Something didn’t feel right. Sans wished he could discern what, though.

“-AND YOU’LL BE ABLE TO GET AROUND EASIER WHEN YOUR STOMACH GOES BACK TO SOMETHING NORMAL LOOKING, NOT LIKE THE BLOB IS TRYING TO EAT _YOU_ INSTEAD, WHICH IT KIND OF SEEMS LIKE IT IS NOW,” Papyrus finished cheerfully. “DOES THAT SOUND BETTER TO YOU, BROTHER?”

“you’re the best, bro,” Sans shrugged reassuringly. Trying to ease them both into the conversation was like navigating an invisible tightrope. “but… uh… listen, you might be taking all this a little too seriously? there hasn’t been-”

“NO,” He cut him off with an unwavering look. “I AM NOT GOING TO ACCEPT COMPROMISE OF YOUR HEALTH.”

…whelp, there goes the last of his resolve. Sans sank under the weight of his words, slouching. Papyrus was too paranoid to reason with. Not right now, at least.

“right… ok…”

“SANS…” He looked down and itched at his gloves nervously. “I’M SORRY, PLEASE DON’T BE ANGRY WITH ME. IF THERE IS SOMETHING I CAN DO BETTER, THEN JUST LET ME-”

“holy crap pap, _calm down_. have you been spending the last three days angsting over this?”

“FOUR DAYS, ACTUALLY. ALMOST FIVE.”

“you _seriously_ need to go find your chill, bro,” Sans ran a hand over his skull, wiping away the sweat. “you’re being kind of irrational about this. heh, i only have 1 HP, so if something was ‘compromising my health’, wouldn’t it just…” He trailed off and sighed, watching Papyrus fidget uncomfortably. “fine… alright… let me just finish my work with alphys, and when i get home tonight, we can do whatever ya want. but promise me you’ll knock off that worrying stuff? you’re worked up over nothing.”

“ _YOU_ ARE NOT NOTHING, YOU ARE VERY IMPORTANT TO ME,” Papyrus reminded him gently, and Sans ground his molars together in a forceful smile. ( _Why._ ) His brother got up from his chair to hoist Sans up to his level in a tight hug. His paunch pinched between them and he wheezed uncomfortably, but still wrapped his arms around Papyrus’ neck in return.

“h-hey bonecrusher, y’gonna give me a _hakuna matata_ or do i gotta ice bucket challenge you?”

“NO!!! I’M CHILL! I’M SO CHILL, I AM SECRETLY _COOLSKELETON95_ , THE CHILLEST SKELETON OF ALL TIME!! NYEH HEH!” Sans smiled naturally, just draping himself in Papyrus’ arms and ignoring how his brother didn’t actually have a single ‘chill’ bone in his body.

“no way,” He feigned. “i thought chiller was the chillest skeleton of all time.”

“WELL, THEY _ARE_ VERY COLD,” Papyrus’ eyesockets narrowed thoughtfully. “BUT, I AM DEFINITELY COOLER. AND MORE CHILL!”

“yeah, i’m sure they’d be ok with just being the _chilli_ -est.”

“I’M NOT SURE I UNDERSTAND YOUR JOKE. LUCKY ME!”

“kn-knock knock?” Alphys’ head spikes poked around the door frame.

“who’s there,” Sans snickered to himself and Papyrus dropped him unceremoniously onto the bed. He rolled over backwards on the bouncy mattress and shifting weight, giggling at how strangely fun the motion was in this cushy bed.

“PLEASE DON’T!”

“N-not even in y-your dreams, Sans,” Alphys mumbled as she entered the room.

“ ‘not even in your dreams sans’ who?”

“AAAAAARGH,” Papyrus stomped.

“Come on, a-are you still ready to go? I’m ready f-for the next test here.” Alphys skittered nervously between the two, studying Sans laying sprawled in place.

“yeah. hey pap, i’ll text ya when i’m on my way home,” He waved him off, accepting that he wouldn’t be able to see his brother leave over his towering gut.

“OKAY! PLEASE TRY TO ACTUALLY WORK HARD AND NOT JUST HARDLY WORK, SANS! NYEH HEH HEH!” Alphys watched Papyrus skip out of the room, hesitating a moment and looking back over at him sprawled out.

“Are you uh, a-are you two-” She was a touch too late, Sans had already exhaled and buried his face in both hands, laying there steeped in exasperation and self loathing.

“forget it,” He cut her short. “we’re going to the barrier now, right?”

“Uh. Uh-huh…”

“good, i’ll meet ya there,” He sighed, disappearing seemingly into thin air as he followed a trail of frighteningly familiar magic with his own shortcut. Sans only had to blink before he found himself laying in the judgement hall, light pouring in through the stained glass.

( _So much for being even remotely acceptable…_ _What am I going to do…?_ )

 

* * *

 

 

He saw the sunlight nearly every day. Well, as long as it was out. Some days the ruins were a cold and grey place. Some days it rained like a waterfall, or there was howling wind, or silent snow, but the Sun felt the most special. Concentrated ambient magic had given them _just_ enough weather to sustain the underground, but not enough to give them _the Sun_ _._ When Sans was a baby bones (at least, in the reflection of his own mind), he remembered Gaster wrote an article detailing the difference between the living creatures when isolated.

The environment adapts according to the concentration of the local monster population, but for humans and animal groupings, _they_ adapt to _the environment_ instead. At first glance, one might conclude monsterkind had the definitive edge when it came to survival, but this adaptive quality - “evolution,” the doctor called it - was far more valuable on an individual basis. ‘ _Divide and conquer_ ’ was the colloquial means of their downfall, after all.

The Sun was no longer theirs anymore, stolen away from them like a beloved parent. When it _was_ out, in the few spaces its light and warmth touched, it alone had the power to move the rambunctious to calm, the proud to fall humble, the sick to be lifted. The quality of the light and heat which filtered down was widely accepted by the Underground as a healing and divine power. He arrived in the throne room before anyone, sitting down in the flowers to look up at the shimmering force, deep in contemplation. This unspoken respect also reached out and gripped Toriel, despite her being here far more often than most monsters, as she reverently followed suit and sat in the flowers beside him. They waited together in the throne room beneath that glorious Sun, allowing the sorrow in their hearts to resonate in the silent space between them. When Undyne and Alphys arrived, they both wound up echoing their sentiment unconsciously, staring up through the shaft of light.

Realization dawned on him, eyelights skimming down at each of the ladies… for the four of them, there was another element to it. He knew this room in particular housed so much personal and unexpressed grief. From Asriel, to Flowey, to Asgore, to… Gaster. This was the last place all of them were seen alive, barring Flowey, who was… _first_ seen alive here.

A minute passed, then a few more. Undyne, with her unparalleled resolve, broke the spell. “Let’s go over the plan again.” Alphys fished out colored, glossy photos with circles and arrows and a paragraph under each, which, though a much tidier presentation than the shitty chicken-scratch notes he made, still focused heavily on the calculations. “ _Preferably_ in plain common, not nerd speak,” Undyne added at first sight of the cards. Alphys pouted a little but tucked them away.

“W-We think we’ve found an overlay point where the barrier weakens, b-but only if there is a field of energy localized across a radius of nine meters.” Sans had been wondering if expanding the radius would make the overlay point that much weaker, but he figured that was an experiment for another day. Today was all about proving the formula right. ( _Speaking of, why the hell is Undyne decked out in full gear? Come on, Alph, you told her this was just a test run, not the real deal, right…?_ )

“So you mean, I’m spearing the barrier over an area of nine meters?”

“Yeah! As much as you can do at once.”

“That should be easy, then!”

“I wish to assist too,” Toriel softly interjected. “May I participate?”

“Sure! I-I believe it can only help. So, if you two create the field this time, Sans can focus on striking the overlay point.” Feeling their glances, he tucked his skull in and picked at a blade of grass.

“the exact trajectory of the bone piece is the, uh, part i’m not entirely sure of. hope you guys are good for holding your attacks like that for a while.” Eugh, this was going to be _so much_ work. He felt tired just thinking about it. He was going to have to use his yellow magic a lot more here to keep it precise, and that was _always_ so draining compared to just spamming cyan and white bones…

“We got this!” Undyne drew one of her two physical spears from its sheath on her back, giving it a frighteningly close twirl. “Are we ready to go or what?!” Sans nodded meekly, his bones beginning to lock up in place as his anxiety began cresting. ( _Come on, you did this before. Get the lead out of your bones, idiot._ ) Instead, his stomach burned with indigestion and he smiled through a grimace, watching Alphys and Undyne go ahead to the barrier.

He couldn’t move, aside from his bones rattling in place. Toriel waited for him patiently, reaching out with both paws open. Sans stared a moment before shakily taking them. “Are you ready?” He wheezed cooler air through the cracks of his teeth and slightly shook his head. “That’s alright. I’m not either,” She smiled kindly and gave his bones a squeeze. The gesture only shifted his shaken nerves to focus on her, looking down and away at the yellow flowers. Fuck, everything was swimming. He forced his eyesockets shut instead.

“heh… this has _tibia_ mistake… i couldn't…” ( _…possibly do something useful? Of such significance…?_ ) He trailed off.

“…Sans.” Toriel rubbed at his carpals thoughtfully. “I’ve been considering some things ever since I found you by the barrier… Such as, what am I going to tell everyone, after I’ve already asked them to forget the outside world? How am I going to protect them if the barrier does comes down?” Sans had also mulled this over while waiting for his fasting to run its course a few days ago, but he stilled at her words when she added, “Why am _I_ the one who’s left to lead us?” Diverting his own negative thoughts, he found his voice with ease.

“tori, you’re the best damn queen we could have asked for,” He asserted. She laughed lightly, as if this was a joke, but he remained uncharacteristically stoic.

“Ha ha, ahh, thank you anyway, Sans, but I must agree to disagree. I would have stayed embittered and alone forever if I hadn’t met you.”

“w-well,” He scrunched down again, feeling shy. The twists and knots in his tummy felt more like whimsuns than waspees. “you just, uh, needed a lil’ _headbutt_ in the right direction is all. heh.”

“Oh? Well, I know _all_ about headbutts, and two can play at that game,” Her eyes lit up with her smile. “The first rule of headbutting is to not use your horns unless you mean business. The second is don’t miss!” Toriel bowed down, tail waggling upright as she butted his skull gently. Sans laughed and yielded, flopping back over into the flowers with Toriel, then peered at her laying beside him. She caught the look, forcing him to hold it. “Now do you still feel _sheep_ ish?”

“heh,” He exhaled, stretching out to crack a couple bones in place. “nah. not when i see that you _keratin_ about this.”

“-PffFHA ha ha, ahh that was good! Or, maybe, should I say that was _baaaa_ ’d-”

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU TWO COMING OR NOT!!” They flinched and both rolled to either side as Undyne planted her boots in the spot in which they formerly laid. Neither could stop snickering, but Undyne focused on Sans, yanking him up to his feet with a strong arm and hauling him off. “Come _on_ already!!”

He winked at Toriel behind Undyne’s back, mouthing the word “toro toro” and making the motion of holding out a cape. She was in stitches, stumbling after the frustrated looking fish lady with tears in her eyes.  

 

* * *

 

 

Man, he was glad he’d never have to fight Undyne or Toriel. They had their full game on today, spears and blazing flames flashing against the white energy of the barrier, the magic crackling around them. The force of their combined attacks caused reverberations strong enough to feel in his bones. It felt… strange, to think he could do anything these two alone couldn’t.

However, they were only here to spread the barrier’s energy thin. Striking the opening was up to him.

First he had to get the bones to fracture by colliding them with as much force as he could muster (which was a surprising amount of force - the first crack sent a sickened shudder through him). In fact, his initial attempt slipped past him so fast that he missed the window for shattering them entirely, and they scattered around the corridor’s walls. Alphys was a lot of help in keeping good pace by telling him which ones he needed to slow down. That part wasn’t so bad once he got the rhythm just right with his white magic; rhythms and patterns were his strong suit, closely tied to his natural blue magic he’d used since he was a baby bones.

The real challenge began when he started summoning Gaster blasters.  Not just for their heavy magic usage, firing them all at once and spinning in rotation to intersect the fire in a continuous beam, or testing bone fragments over and over again. The worst was just how much he hated himself to _use_ them.

Those Gaster blasters… They were _Gaster’s_ blasters. What originally started as an elaborate joke between them wound up being one of the most intimidating magic attacks in recorded history. The entire concept hinged on warm-coloured magic that _should_ have been too far out of either monster’s range to master. But that didn’t stop good ol’ G. He spent years perfecting their shape through textbook research and practicing their extensive motions. He’d wound up able to make demonic-looking, sharp toothed beasts out of his white magic, and control them so deftly he could fill a glass of water from another room and deliver it without so much as scratching the cup or spilling a drop. Doctor Gaster, the brilliant scientist of real talent and dedication, and his foil of an assistant, Sans, who couldn’t hold a candle to any of that. If Gaster hadn’t disappeared, Sans felt sure he’d still be the fat, lazy slob he was today, because the idea of him ever being a proficient scientist felt like some misguided cosmic joke.

So here he was, summoning a small army of blasters which weren’t of his own design, which had no right to come forth from his magic, and which stemmed from a yellow magic he only mastered from grief under the weight of these truths - but nobody knew better. When they came out, the three ladies all commended that they were very impressive. Sans agreed numbly and wished he could have buried them forever ago with the memory of the doc.

His feelings further inflamed his magic, eye burning hot and golden in his skull as they repeated the tiring motions. Sans stayed away from any ricocheting attacks, exchanging a couple quick observations with Alphys between cycles. She watched with her laptop, recording, taking notes and muttering for him to ‘go up’, and ‘a little more to the right’.

“i don’t think i can do this,” He croaked out when they neared their tenth go around.

“N-No, we’re close! We-We gotta be, just keep g-going…” Sans cringed at her steadfast belief, watching how Toriel and Undyne didn’t falter a moment despite attacking with more frequency than him. He found a shred of resolve to press on, as to not squander the bright hopes of his friends, and summoned another myriad of bones.

Again- nothing.

Again- nothing.

Again- his magic was rushing out like a violent current, he didn’t even wait for her feedback before beginning the cycle over.

Again-

Again-

Again-

( _What if you can’t stop?_ ) Helplessness crept into his SOUL as the frightening thought struck him. Was he losing control, or had he already lost it? Should he be resisting this flow? Maybe was he just being paranoid…? Yeah, that had to be it. Afterall, _who the hell could **lose control** of their magic like that-_?

“Sans,” Alphys shouted, breaking him out of the self-destructive thoughts entirely. “It’s right there, another bone!”

Yep, there it was, another bone fragment splintered off, much bigger this time and lodged into the invisible shield beside the previous one. Sans paused for a breath to stare at the refracted trajectory of his attack before impulse gripped him tight, summoning up over two dozen blasters in a swarm and scorching the singular spot with the full force of his magic.

The blast connected, pushing through the bones to the other side, carried several yards away by the lingering force. The barrier rippled and strained and peeled away, revealing a hole around the size of a basketball under the continuous strain. Sans saw through the barrier to the other side and briefly caught sight of a field of green and gold as he pulled away his magic and stumbled back.

It was only a moment. The unrelenting hex which barred them all down here sprung back and swallowed up this hole effortlessly. But not before Undyne and her quick reflexes drew the other spear from her back and hurled it like a javelin through the opening. It disappeared with their first glance into the world denied to them.

Asides from Sans crumpling to sit and clutch at his left eyesocket, nobody moved.

For several minutes.

“O-o-oh m-my g-gggawd,” Alphys whimpered finally, and Sans glanced sideways to find she was moved to tears. “It–hic– it’s-it’s–r- _real_ …”

“Yeah. It’s real alright,” Undyne remarked, firmly grounded, but her fervor escalated as she clenched her fists. “All of it! Everything we’ve been through! The deaths _and_ the suffering-! YOU HEAR THAT, HUMANS? YOU CAN’T KEEP US DOWN HERE FOREVER!”

Toriel stood rigid like a statue, eyes hazy and somewhere far away from them. 

Sans couldn’t feel much of anything besides exhausted and, well, that horrible head-splitting migraine. He closed his eyesockets and sighed in relief, just happy to keep the rest of his magic to himself and undoubtedly under control. His belly had noticeably shrank from the exertion, but luckily still sat on his lap, still stirred up and raring to go.

"OKAY!!” Undyne stopped her excited kicking and stabbing at the barrier fruitlessly to turn back to the two scientists a ways away. “Obviously there’s no army of humans standing out there waiting for us, so we just have to get the power of the Core on this sucker and blow it to smithereens now!”

“ 'snot enough,” He mumbled.

“What?!”

“i said, it’s not enough.”

“U-Um,” Alphys exhaled, calming down to look over her laptop. “What S-Sans means is, the current output i-isn’t enough to match the barrier’s coverage. Remember it, u-uh, spans the entire area Underground, not just this particular location, so the applied force here has to- has to be enough to cover about 1100 km2? And…” She bit at her short claws and then looked up, hobbling over to him with her laptop. “Oh, let me take your mana readout w-while I can!”

“So you mean, we’re still stuck here, huh? Heh, I guess that’s just as well. There’s a lot we need to do to get ready,” She grinned, eyeing Toriel. “Like get the Royal Guard back into shape!”

Toriel’s gaze snapped back into focus as she stated with an edge of anger, “We are _not_ reinstating the Royal Guard.”

“Look, I get it. You don’t want to see anyone to get hurt. And honestly, neither do I! But that’s exactly why we need to be ready to defend ourselves-”

“I won’t stand by and listen to this talk of war before we even make first contact with the humans. This is not negotiable, Undyne.”

“Wasn’t Asriel enough of a first contact for you,” Undyne retorted, and Sans could swear the room got five degrees hotter as he saw the anger on Toriel’s face. “He didn’t go in there to hurt anybody!”

“I can’t say what came over my child that day,“ Her voice trembled. "So much happened so quickly. The humans might have assumed the worst when they- when they saw her body…”

“So what did they do but ATTACK him-!”

“Have you _all_ not done the same these past few decades, spiriting away children for your advantage?!” Toriel snarled back.

“yo guys,” He cut in before it got uglier. “imma let you finish, but i have the greatest headache of all time. _of all time_.” Sans forced a grin at his joke then shrugged, adding, “think you can uh… have vastly different opinions somewhere else…?”

“Oh… no, that isn’t necessary. I’m sure we’re done here.” The boss monster turned her nose up at Undyne and came over. She rubbed his skull with a paw and he leaned into the touch instinctively. “You did so well,” She whispered soothingly. “Do you want some tea, maybe? It might help you feel better.”

“that sounds good. thanks tori.” She left him in the tense silence of his two friends, neither sparing him a look. It felt nice to relax. Undyne strolled over and grinned, squatting down by him.

“Well, she’s right though, it was pretty awesome what you did back there. Doesn’t it feel great to just go all out once in a while?”

“yeah. _for lunch_.” She rolled her eyes and grunted, and it instantly put him into a fit of giggles, though it kind of accentuated the throbbing in his skull. “heh heh, ow…”

“Please tell me you’re not hungry again.”

“P-Probably is,” Alphys didn’t tear her eyes away from the laptop. “Sans lost abou-about 51.59 mtb since I scanned him this morning, so that’s at- at least half of his magic spent here.”

“What? That all was only half!?” Undyne squinted, jagged teeth contorting then clasping both hands on his clavicle. “You got this, nerd! This is going to be some wicked, gut-busting action when we set you lose on this barrier again!”

“i’m legitimately afraid to ask what you mean by that.”

“Undyne, th-that’s too much to ask,” The royal scientist sighed and lowered the screen in her lap, thinking over how to express it in simplest terms. “W-Well, looking at how much magic Sans alone used to create that hole, and uh, n-not taking into account what you and Toriel needed, we’d need _several dozen_ Sans t-to get close enough to o-open the barrier, even w-with the Core’s output.” Well, that was true, but what if they could magnify their magic exponentially? After all, his metabolism evidently processed magic at a higher output then their technology had yet mastered-

Sans’ phalanges scraped down his cheek bone, both eyesockets opening up to stare at Alphys. Then, at Undyne who had grown pensive. Finally, he craned his neck to look out at the barrier.

“the magic i had gathered,” He began slowly. “my absorption rate. you said it was more efficient than the mechanical transference used by the core.”

“Y-Yes…”

“but we don’t know exactly what that discrepancy is, just that it’s around 20% with our current figure. what if my absorption rate could harvest magic _exponentially_?”

“Sans!” Alphys gasped and hunched over to wring her claws out anxiously. “Th-That’s so m-much though, uh…”

“hey, i didn’t start out this big,” He shrugged.

“What are you yammering on about?”

“H-He’s pr-proposing that he i-increase the maximum amount of magic he has!”

“Ssssooo, what, he gets fatter or something?” She scratched at her hair, tussling it around before grinning. “Not the kind of gut busting _I_ was thinking of, but hey! Whatever gets the barrier open, I say we go for it! Besides, he’s already a pro at pigging out.”

“aw shucks, you’re making me blush,” He leered at her before leaning over to pat Alphys on the kneecap. “trust me, i was probably gonna do this anyway. i’ll just come over for some scans now and then and we’ll go from there.”

“I-If we’re going to be serious about this, y-you should keep a diary s-so we can evaluate…”

“uh, not gonna lie here alph, but you won’t get me doing that for more than a day. too much work.”

“How is writing down your meals too much work!?”

“Y-You could, um, text me a photo of it before you eat…”

“also too much work.”

“Sans!! You can’t break the barrier without ANY effort!!”

“sorry. gonna have to trust my _gut_ instinct on this one, heh heh.”

“Oh my god _shut up_.”

“Sneerrkk,” Toriel’s snorting acted up, giggling as she came by with a tray and offering them each a cup. “What’s this now about the amazing, growing Sans?” Sans took the offer but flushed and squirmed, scrunching down to hide his bashfulness poorly.

“uh, hhheh heh, um…”

“He’s gonna load up on more magic to get this barrier down,” Undyne announced for him. “And with Alphys and I handling the Core, this barrier is as good as toast!!”

“I think you’re right there.” Toriel smiled and set the tray down to look over the figures with Alphys, talking them over. Sans was feeling better already, but the hot cup of aromatic oolong tea sealed the deal. He drained his in one go and sighed into the china. “This has been quite a day of discovery.” Toriel said as she extended a paw to take his cup. He handed it over.

“heh… yeah, crazy huh?”

“Why don’t we go out and enjoy the rest of the afternoon?”

“O-Oh!! Yes, there was something I w-was meaning to get today,” Alphys squirmed and nudged Undyne secretively. Toriel poured Sans another cup of tea and lightly bumped foreheads with him as he reached to wrap it in his phalanges.

“I think you especially deserve a nice treat for all of the hard work lately.”

“heh heh… sure, sounds fun.”

 

* * *

 

 

A day in New Home wasn’t exactly what he would call a treat. The place was stuffy and cramped, and any sense of togetherness among monsterkind was long gone. Other passersby regularly bumped into him, clipping his elbow or his gut, then kept walking without even an apology. One gave him a nasty look as if it was his fault (well, being large around the middle _was_ entirely his fault, but they didn’t know that). He half wondered if he would have been trampled if he wasn’t with Toriel and Undyne, who attracted a fair amount of attention and the only smiles to be seen for blocks. Each was a celebrity in her own right.

This city was the capital of the “you live here now” movement, which seemed ideal on paper but was somewhat unsettling to see in the dust. The streets were lined with freelance cafes and shops themed around pure Monster aesthetic, bearing furniture and decor with no similarity to the human constructs they’d scavenged over the years. Every couple of blocks they found anti-human propaganda, and each time he had to follow Toriel inside to back her up and request that the material be taken down immediately. It wasn’t this bad back when he lived here with Papyrus, but then again, the news back then wasn’t “stop hoping for freedom”. Clearly, the absence of that hope left something festering.

They… would probably have to talk about this at tomorrow’s rep meeting.

At least they still respected the Queen’s authority, as no one objected to removing the hate symbols. Some owners claimed ignorance, others complied begrudgingly.

By the time they’d walked to their destination, Sans was hungry and tired and _really_ wanted to go back to Snowdin where monsters were soft and friendly. That only intensified when he peered at the mall’s floor plan.

“wow, thats a lotta shops,” he said, smile feeling similar to a grimace. “we’re not going to them _all_ , right?”

“Of COURSE we are! Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Sans, we haven’t even walked a mile yet!” He just stared at Undyne lethargically.

“welp, no _bones_ about it, you can _see right through me_.”

“Oh don’t start with that now,” She groaned alongside Alphys. His favorite audience, Toriel, was already cracking up, so he had absolutely no reason to stop.

“undyne, there’s no need to be so _marrow_ minded,” Sans winked. “you should try crossing some _bone_ daries and see what its like _tibia lazybones-_ ”

“Stop!”

“wow you really don’t find this _humerus_ , do you? come on, i’m just _rib_ bing ya, there’s no need to get so _sternum_.”

“S-Sans, come on, w-we’ve heard these all before…”

“i do have a _tendon_ cy to get carried away.” Toriel was in stitches and it was starting to get him laughing too. Everyone passing through the entrance kept a lingering stare, as if questioning their right to stand out from the crowd. Undyne quickly had enough, rolling her eye and stomping off ahead of them. Alphys shook her head and scurried after her.

“Hahaasnrrt, haff! S-Sans, we better _ketchup_ before we have _no body_ to go with!”

“we could always _carpal_ , i’ve got a _skeleton key_ to a _bone_ afide ride. in that case, maybe we should say…” He paused for final dramatic effect, but she picked up on it, simultaneously shouting, “ ** _BONE_ voyage!**” The two dissolved into a fit of giggles and gasps, curling over and finding support against the wall and the map posted on it. Just when one of them would begin to calm down, the other would guffaw and it instantly brought them both back to hysterics. _This_ was what it was like to be laughing with someone. Sharing that release felt glorious.

“Ahh, ha ha… I’ve missed my favorite funny bones,” Toriel beamed, leaning forward to nuzzle the top of his skull with her snout. (W- _Was that a little kiss?)_ Any air he was sucking in to cool off with caught in his ribs and his magic flared and glowed, swarming his bones as he blushed. Gosh, he couldn’t even feel her fur or lips there and the motion _still_ made him flustered.

“heh heh… heh,” Sans wheezed through an all-too-tight smile. She paid no mind to his awkward and stiff posture, taking his hand gently to lead him.

“Please come along. I said I was going to treat you, and I meant it.”

Honestly, that was enough of a treat for him he’d be happy to call it a day, let alone asking anything else of her. Still, he nodded dumbly and tried to keep up despite his fluttering SOUL. 

 

* * *

 

 

Sans made it to the main stairwell that broke up the first four quadrants and found a bench to collapse in beside a wishing fountain. Toriel let him stay, leaving for one of the shops on that floor after he promised to hang tight. The bench was hard and slatted, and obviously not made for monsters of his girth to lay down on. Sans managed to lay on his back anyway.  He carefully counterbalanced the curvature of his tummy, since it hung precariously over the edge, and dozed. There was a lot of ambient crowd noises mixed in with the rushing fountain water, and he found it strangely soothing. He remembered something similar, just an inkling… Spending time in a busy lab, bustling about. There was nothing to recall. At least it felt… Pleasant.

He would have napped for even longer, had a gold coin not been dropped into into his eye socket from above. That would definitely be going on his list of “most alarming ways to wake up.” He was immediately conscious of the object clattering loudly inside his skull and he lurched, phalanges clawing at his sockets. “-the _hell_ -!” Sans tried to sit up, but between his thrown balance and the resistance of his bulging stomach, he rolled off the bench and belly flopped onto the ground instead. 

Damn, he _totally_ just got dunked on. Sans laid there a moment, aching and hating the cackling kid he could hear upstairs laughing at his misfortune. Sorely, he pushed himself up and began blindly fishing around for the gold piece. With a few shakes of his skull, it fell to his mandible and he spat it out. Hah, it was a tenpiece too! ( _Stupid rich brat._ )

After that fiasco, he didn’t really care to try his luck with the bench again and loitered around the rest area instead, watching monsters idly. There were several jewelry carts out in the main strip with stores flanking either side, leaving ample space for enormous weremmoth and tiny elepint monsters alike to co-mingle. Sans nearly turned back when he was struck by a warm, cheesy smell nearby, and his slippered feet led him around the corner with no protest or fatigue at all.

There! It was a brightly colored, simple stand, similar to the Nice Cream outfit back in Snowdin but a bit taller. He moseyed on over, keeping his excitement well under wraps. Hopefully his stomach’s light growling would be covered by the crowd noise. It wasn’t like he could help it.

“whats this yer selling?”

“Jumbo Pretzel Dogs,” The salesmonster replied. “With, or without cheese! They really hit the spot if you’re on the go.” He was a green Djinn with four horns and three eyes, and the blue gaseous trail behind him was somehow ringed with golden bands. Geez, and Sans thought he made some good credit selling hot animals in Hotland…

“can i have,” He paused to look over the pricing sheet. Well, no wonder, he charged more. “-two, with cheese?” He exchanged his acquired loot and a bit extra, watching keenly as the other monster popped the pretzel ‘dog into an oven to bake in the cheese. “i used to sell ‘dogs out in hotland. do y’ ever stack ‘em,” Sans asked, grinning mischievously.

“Stack them?”

“aw, don’t tell me ya don’t even know _how_ to stack. that’s like the main attraction of hot dogs!”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what stacking _is_. Is it a condiment combination?” The vendor looked curious, and Sans knew he had them dead to rights.

“nah, okay, listen, i got a question for ya then, pal. you got all these shops around you, everyone’s buying as much as they can hold. that’s the whole gig behind this place, right? but then they realize they’re hungry.” Sans reached around to cup his shoulder and pull him down to his level, gesturing at other patrons. “they come up to your stand, an _oasis in a sea of hunger_ , with inventories full and wondering if they, too, can have a pretzel dog. what do you say to them?”

Squinting, the djinn looked at Sans’ face carefully. “I… politely tell them no.”

“wrong,” Sans whispered. “ya _put it on their head_.” The djinn wavered a moment before his expression hardened, so Sans gave his shoulder a pat just to keep him on track. “hold it, that face… _that’s_ the face of someone who clearly doesn’t understand what his business is.”

“My business is selling pretzel dogs-”

“also wrong,” Sans’ grin held fast, eye sockets narrowing. “your business is being a weenie who thinks it’s ok to tell others what to do.”

“How would it remotely benefit them to have a pretzel dog put on their head?!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “The vendor’s oath says not to prey on customers!”

“fine, then don’t charge em. whatever the case, don’t be their mom if you ain’t their mom.” The micro-oven dinged, signalling that his snack was ready. The vendor huffed, took it out, and applied copious amounts of ketchup as requested before handing it over. “thanks pal. oh yeah, and one more thing… if you change your mind, the record on head dogs stacked in one go is twenty-nine.”

The djinn stared in bewilderment as Sans made his leave, chuckling to himself. Geez, everyone was too damn straight around here. Least his ‘dog was good.  The three baked cheese was a soft touch that intermingled well with the dusted salt and juicy, meaty water sausage. The pretzel’s leathery crust made it harder to bite through however, and his struggle caused ketchup to drip off onto his already gross white sweater. He looked down at it and shrugged, expecting to lick it off once he had a hand free-

“Sans? Saaans…”

( _Oh shoot, Tori._ ) He wandered back over to his rest spot to find her with a large paper bag already, wearing a worried look.

“There you are, I thought you weren’t going to go anywhere.”

“sorry tori,” He shrugged, dipping his head down. “the nap didn’t work out.” After a moment, he looked at the second pretzel dog in his right hand and held it out with a smile. “there’s a stand round the corner sellin’ pretzel dogs. ya’ wanna share?”

“Oh- no, please, you have it.” There was no masking his relief. He shoved the rest of his first ‘dog in his mouth and swallowed before biting into the next.

“mmok,” He mumbled, mouth full and flecked with ketchup. Toriel snickered and fished around in her pockets for a napkin.

“Ah, I suppose I should apologize, actually. We should have gotten food first.” She reached over to clean him up but he leaned away.

“at least lemme finish before you start your charity.”

“I’m starting to think you _prefer_ being covered in grease and slime.”

“hey, not all of us get nice, luxurious fur.” He crammed the rest in his mouth anyway, chewing deliberately and making a funny face at her. She laughed and held him still to keep him from squirming as she wiped him down. He didn’t really resist… He just liked her attention.

“Well, I got you the next best thing to fur,” She chirped, reaching into the bag to pull up a parka and holding it up for him to see. “Fur lining! It’s like having fur without the matting or the grooming and trimming.”

“uh, wh…” The jacket was a shade darker than his last blue one and had light grey fur lining, white stitches, little gold rivets and a gold zipper. It was clearly designed for his short stature, but with a broader front and back. Honestly, it looked nicer than any clothing he could remember owning. “seriously, buying me clothes? tori, you didn’t have to…”

“Of course not, but I wanted to, especially with how upset you were about losing your last jacket.” Oh, he mentioned that sometime? Shoot, hopefully he didn’t say anything about Flowey’s ambush. “Do you like it?”

“yeah! i- i love it. i just…” Sans trailed off and fidgeted, averting his eyelights to the wishing fountain. Toriel stood up after a beat, leaning over to throw it around his shoulders.

“You _deserve_ it, Sans. We might be celebrating the barrier opening today, but the truth is, you have always been covering my back…” She bit her lower lip, snorting as she struggled to finish with “so now I’m _going to_ _cover yours_.”

They both pealed with joy, descending into another round of jokes. He swore to himself he’d never let this jacket go.

 

* * *

 

 

It was no challenge at all for Alphys and Undyne to find them cackling like a pair of loons and drag them off. The food court was a total sensory overload. Different lights and scents and motions surrounded him; there were at least fifteen different shops making a wide variety of meals for the masses. Sans felt like a kid in a candy store, trying to survey where to go. He wanted some of all of it, but there was no way he’d manage that… the girls all disagreed on where to eat so he stuck with Toriel, because any place that sold cheesecake she approved of had to be good. She picked up stuffed mushrooms and chopped salad while he started small with fried macaroni and cheese, steak diane, roadside sliders, and a rootbeer float. It was small for him, anyway.

As they were waiting for their order to be filled, he spied Alphys in line two shops down and gave the queen a sly smile.

“hey uh, tori, i’ll be right back.” Before she could reason with him, he slipped under the line barricades and carefully navigated the sea of taller monsters. Alphys had only moved up in line one spot before he emerged beside her with a wink. “heyyy alph thanks for holding my spot.” 

“S-Sans, what are you doing,” She frowned, knowing full well he was over there a moment ago. He shrugged, glossing over the menu above.

“what? i’m hungry. gotta eat more if we’re gonna get that barrier down right?”

“You know, if y-you just… _Want_ to eat more, then, uh, y… You should.” Sans locked up, eyelights losing their focus on the menu. What did she say? Cautiously he looked back at her, surprised not just by how forthcoming she was in questioning him, but also by her response. She looked nervous as hell, trying to avoid his gaze. “But- But cutting in line isn’t f-fair…”

“uh… alright,” He mumbled back, feeling a bit exposed. He still stayed beside her there in line, waiting out the time needed for this awkward admission to pass. He looked behind him and spied a colorful pygmy seahorse, swaying to a beat of her own, oblivious to her proximity the checkout. She must have noticed his look and smiled at him with deep rings under her eyes.

“Baby Zenga is such a great show, don’t you think?” Sans had no clue what she was on about, but he returned the smile anyhow.

“whatever ya think there, pal. its obviously got ya groovin.”

“W-We’re next,” Alphys tugged on his jacket sleeve, straightening up a little from her hunched posture to order eggplant and chicken potstickers. He ordered some Beijing beef with chow mein and nudged her.

“can you pick it up for me, i’ve gotta get back to tori.” No sooner than she had agreed, he’d slipped under the line barrier only to be stopped by a blue arm wrapped around his skull from the side.

“Hey nerd,” her loud voice ringing over the noise of the crowd, Undyne had muscled her way over to them and put him in a ‘playful’ choke hold. “I see what you’re doing. Who said you can break your diet just because of this barrier stuff!?” He stared up at her like she had grown a second head.  
  
“um… for starters, i’m _pretty sure_ you even implied it yourself?”  
  
“WRONG! Not when your brother is worried about your health!” She snatched his sleeve and dragged him away unceremoniously, leaving Alphys, who was giving him a bemused look of sympathy. Granted, as long as it meant eating something and soon, he didn’t have a _real_ issue with this… The line for the vegetarian bar was pretty short, and he wasn’t surprised considering some of their eclectic menu.  
  
“how certain are you that any of this is ‘healthy’?”  
  
“A lot more than the slop you were looking at!”        

The menu served similar stuff to the stall Alphys was at, but there was extra emphasis on no meat products, gluten free food, and even more labels he was pretty sure he didn’t care about. He’d already ordered a lot… But he’d humor Undyne. Besides, he _did_ want to get into pushing his limits soon enough, anyhow.

“alright, i guess i’ll have a rice bowl with avocado and fried egg.”

“Good! See, you’ll like eating non-greasy stuff after a while,” Undyne gave him a strong pat on the back.

“like you?” Sans just smiled back, knowingly.

“Of course,” She pouted and gave him a very light shove, looking back up at the cashier. “Yeah, give me the roast veggie and curried avocado coconut rice bowl!” Shit, that also sounded really tasty… Then again, everything did… He was _so_ ready to eat right now.

Sans looked over to the dining area and saw Toriel had already picked out a table for them. He slid back from Undyne a little, inching his way to freedom.

“curried avocado, huh?”

“Yeah! It’s like it takes an avocado and punches it in the face with more spicy flavor!!”

“you’ve eaten here before?” He was still in dangerous “Undyne reach” territory but he was almost out of there…

“The King and I would come here more casually to chat and eat. He would get- oh, what is it…” Sans slipped on out as she was looking over the menu once more, tummy rumbling as he weaved through the passing crowds of monsters.

“finally,” He sighed dramatically as he flopped into his chair beside Toriel. “thought i’d never get back here.”

“I didn’t doubt it,” She gave him a knowing look, setting down her fork to search through the bag of styrofoam containers. “Here, so they put this separate-”

“i got it, thanks for picking it up.” He took the large bag and fished around for himself, getting the four slider burgers out first. If he was going to have to hear it from Undyne, he might as well try to get through the “greasiest” stuff first.

He bit the first one in half and found the bacon he added was a little crunchier than he expected. Cheese, bacon, onion, mustard, ketchup, and tomato, that was right. The small thing slopped in his phalanges from the force of his bite and the massive amount of condiments inside, which was fine because the next bite finished it off. Sans licked the greasy residue from his hand before taking on the next one.

These certainly weren’t Grillby quality and had tougher rolls, but he was so hungry it hardly bothered him. Their small size was actually kind of empowering compared to the massive burgers his friend made, which were easily three to four times this size.

In fact, they were so puny, he was done with all of them before Toriel even finished her salad. He sipped on his root beer float. It really was a great choice. Sweetness mixed with bitterness and cream hit the spot after his meaty appetizer. It was super frothy, though, and left a foamy residue along his maxilla. He burped out the air lightly, _then_ remembered he was in the presence of the queen. He sank in his seat, looking sheepish. “heh, ‘scuse me.”

“I take that to mean it’s good, then?” She looked more amused than disgusted. He beamed back, reassured.

“i guess its good to _air_ on the side of caution there with the assumptions, but yeah, its fa- _burp_ -lous.” She giggled behind a sip of her iced tea. Alphys came by and Toriel looked surprised at the number of boxes she was juggling.

“Th-These are Sans’,” She replied before the question could come out, setting two of them down by his bag before settling in beside Toriel.

“heheh, thanks alph.”

“I see, so _that’s_ where you went off to. If you wanted something else, you could have just said so, Sans.”

“it was more fun this way,” He shrugged and opened up the container of radiant fried mac and cheese balls. The coating was thin and reddish, dusted with a variety of spices and herbs, and topped with a shredded Parmesan cheese, melting from the heat. For what they were, the chef had tried pretty hard to make the presentation nice - even going as far as to add a touch of green garnish in the center of the four balls. Maybe it was because the queen was there? Who knows.

Like the sliders, they were just big enough that he couldn’t quite pop the whole piece in his mouth. Holding one delicately with the tips of his phalanges, he took an enormous bite. Inside, the extra chewy noodles were thoroughly saturated in cream, dribbling out a bit. Sans didn’t wait to absorb his first bite before his tongue snaked out and swiped up the remaining fried shell and leaking cheese. He leaned back, mouth stuffed, as he rubbed the dancing energy in his belly.

“mmmm,” He moaned quietly and snatched into the next one in a hungry fervor. Gosh, he loved the sticky, chewy, soft pasta grinding underneath his molars. The slight crunchiness and spice the frying provided hit the greasy spot his tummy longed for, and the heavy dollop of magic depositing inside left him tingling in pleasure. Sans threw back the little cup of marinara sauce like a sweet, saucy poor monster’s shot glass, then dove in to gobble up more fried goodness.

Toriel and Alphys had started talking about the shops, which Sans was grateful for because it meant he would have no distractions from his rich, creamy ecstasy. Honestly, he couldn’t have slowed down to make it last if he had tried. The last two were down in an instant after some excited scarfing, and afterwards his tongue ran a lap around the inside of his jaw to taste the lingering remains of cheesy residue.

He was a little disappointed that part of his meal was over, but the feeling quickly dissipated like smoke when he opened his steak diane. It was diced, circular medallions of pan roasted steak, drenched in a mushroom wine sauce and crushed, black peppercorn. There were also grilled onions and mushrooms mixed in, and a huge mound of lumpy looking mashed potatoes. The spork provided was disappointingly small, but he compensated the best he could, stabbing into the tender meat and shoveling in spoonfuls of the grilled vegetables at the same time.

This was great too! The steak was a touch on the raw side, which was how he preferred it, really - nice and juicy, nothing he had to gnaw on. Honestly, the whole dish was perfectly cooked and seasoned just right. Sans just wished he could shove more into his hungry mouth at a time, and fumbling with this flimsy utensil was a lot of needless effort. Leaning in to bring himself closer was an option he explored, but his burbling belly was pinched by the table that way, and that was less than pleasant. Sans spread his stance out to try and readjust, grunting before it settled more comfortably, dipping a little between his femurs. He sighed in relief and dug into the mashed potatoes. They were whipped a little but not all the way through, and some thicker chunks were spread throughout as well as shreds of skin. It was quite starchy, and some cheese or gravy would have really helped it overall. He ate the whole potato’s worth anyway, finishing that before returning to the mushrooms soaking on his plate.

He was just getting into a good rhythm when Undyne arrived, tossing the bag on the table between her place and Alphys’, then slamming a hand down on the back of Sans’ chair, lip curled back. “Hey! You didn’t really think you were getting away, huh, punk?” Sans flinched at the sudden motion, instinctively jolting back, but found he had already wedged himself in place when the table dug into his stomach from above as he shifted. It didn’t appreciate the pinching or jostling and the magic buzzed like a disturbed hive, rippling into his bones.

“ ** _hiccup_**! u-ugh, heheh,” Sans forced a smile and tried to play the indigestion and his cramped position down, folding both arms on the table in front of him as he tried to be coy. “whatever do’ya- _hic!-_ mean, huh?”

“Ditching me in line to go get this slop,” She swept a hand under his plate and held it up away. He couldn’t help but be affronted by the gesture, but there wasn’t a damn thing he was going to do about it anyway. Confronting Undyne was so not worth it.

“Hey,” Toriel interjected. “Don’t be so pushy, Sans can eat what he wants.”

“No, not when he told Papyrus he’d go on a diet!”

“Then that’s between them, Undyne. You can’t tell Sans what to do,” She reiterated firmly.

“I _know_ how hard-headed he is, even more than you realize, but that’s never stopped me from trying to do the right thing! Papyrus is really worried about what this numbskull is doing to himself, eating garbage all the time.” He felt trapped between a rock and a hard place, both literally and figuratively. They were beginning to draw an uncomfortable amount of attention, to top it off.

“ _hicCUP_ ,” Sans squeaked loudly as he tried to resist the next wave of magic, summoning a bone in the reflux to sit in his empty food containers. It was getting worse by the second, and he began sweating from the worry that some magic might try to come back up if this continued. Toriel hadn’t replied but her stern and set expression challenged Undyne nonetheless.

The tense stalemate persisted. Until, that is, Alphys shared a nervous twitchy look with him across from her, chewing on the ends of her chopsticks. “U-Uhmm, I-I th-think the q-queen is r-rrright, Undyne… j..just let them work it o-out. B-Besides, Sans is h-helping us r-reach some progress with the barrier…” The fish lady stared at her partner, not as shocked as Sans would have thought. More… pensive.

The entire food court had seemed to go quiet around them… Or perhaps it was just the impression he got from their suffocating silence. Sans gulped a deep breath of air down to cool his squirming magic inside and grinned wider.

”uh, so… i came out to have a good time, and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” All three looked at him speechless as the words sunk in, then suddenly erupted into laughter. The grin became more real as Sans realized he hit jackpot by capitalizing on the awkward moment, and laughed with them.

”Oh my god you memelord _loser_ ,” Undyne barked with a twisted grin, slapping a hand on her forehead in disbelief.

”H-He – haha– o-oh jeez S-Sans,” Alphys gasped, rubbing her eyes underneath her glasses.  Toriel was snorting between breaths too much, reaching a hand out to rub his skull approvingly. The sounds of their enjoyment and the soft fur matting his sweaty head again filled his SOUL with relief. He exhaled a rumbling half burp as his belly settled back down.

 

After a round of Undernet-related jokes and nearly getting speared when he planted a whoopie cushion in Undyne’s seat, Sans was able to finish his steak with no trouble at all and start into his Beijing beef. It was sour and greasy with a sweet undertone, and the fried meat strips were drenched in a runny, aromatic sauce with cooked peppers, green onions, and carrots. To his surprise (though he should have figured as much, coming from a place Alphys would pick), the fried beef strips were sauteed in black soy sauce, giving the chewy beef hiding underneath a slightly salty, moreso sweet, taste. The vegetables were soft and cut into long strips, and he made a point to Undyne that he was eating his greens. She rolled her eyes at the greasy mess.

He had slowed down considerably by the end of it and had begun picking at his chow mein noodles with the chop sticks, feeling his happy, burbling belly under the table growing tighter and more uncomfortable under his sweater. Damn, he couldn’t be feeling full going into this heaping bowl, he still had to eat the rice bowl with avocado and fried egg, plus a slice of cheesecake after that! Sans puffed some air out and challenged himself to take in bigger mouthfuls.

It _was_ really tasty at least, much more salty than the last dish, but simpler too. He could pick out onion and cabbage, but it was more about the curly, golden browned noodles cooked in oyster and soy sauce. Oh, and oil, everything tasted best when it was greasy!

“Soba,” Alphys corrected him when he called it wormy spaghetti. “I-It’s a kind of ramen made without eggs or kansui, s-so it’s softer.”

“pardon my _extrusion_ then,” He grinned at her before shoving another heaping gob of noodles in his mouth. Underneath the table, he was blindly pinching and poking at his gut, hoping to find more of those damn air pockets… Though, then again, he didn’t want to burp like that in front of them.

Toriel must have noticed his slight winces and uncomfortable shifts back and forth and reached over to take Undyne’s bag with the rice in it. “Here, I’ll put this with the cheesecake so you can have leftovers.”

“nah, hff, hey, i got this, tori,” Sans reached out and grabbed the edges of it first. “if you guys wanna go ahead, i’ll- i’ll finish up here.” At first she seemed taken back by his perseverance, but then smiled secretively. Oh man, he really wished he knew what thoughts were behind that look…

“If you’re sure you can handle it,” She relayed patiently, collecting up the garbage and taking it to the disposal cans.

“mmmhrrrph,” Sans gave her a thumbs up on her way over, slurping at some noodles with an inhale.

“You better finish it after you made me pay for it!” Undyne gave him a sour look initially, then a grin crept over her. “You know, I think I’ll wait here for you to finish. Alphys, you can go ahead without me, bae.” Shit, that wasn’t helpful. He was about to give Alphys a pleading look to go when she turned extremely rigid in place and her face burned bright red. Sans figured he missed something between them from the shuffling under the table, but there was no looking around his filled belly…

“Hyeuk! Ah- _Ah ha_ \- ha ha ha ha…!” Yep, he had no chance at getting her listening ear now, the scientist looked ready to melt into a puddle of goo on the spot.

“wow you guysh’re killin’ my appetite here.”

“Oh _yeah right_ , some excuse!”

“I-I h-h–hhhhavesomeshoppingtodo!” Alphys squeaked, flying out of her seat, and she bustled away with her tail raised high. Sans watched curiously, eyeing Undyne  suspiciously. She returned the sentiment with a devilish smile and he took a vow of silence on the matter instead.

“well, since you wanna hang for the finale, i guess you won’t mind if i get more comfortable,” He said as he scooted his chair backward in small increments until he could carefully straddle it with his belly hanging out in front. Sans exhaled as he rubbed the sore spot where the table had dug into it, exhaling in relief. “phew, that’s a lot better, **_brruuup._** heh heh…”

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to gross me out, Sans.”

“don’t tempt me. we’ll both end up regretting it,” He winked and leaned over, snatched up the bowl and rested it upon his swollen gut, then began sucking down the noodles. It was a lot more convenient this way, as the distance between him and his meal was reduced to the point that he could gulp down the last of it with ease, cleaning out of the bowl with his conjured tongue. Sans shoved it aside and reached for the rice bowl, but Undyne scooped it up and handed it over. He took it defensively, clutching it to himself and peering at her suspiciously. “ _thanks._ ”

“What’s that look for,” She barked out a laugh. “I’m not gonna take it from you!” He kept staring anyway, gathering up some rice and warm, fresh avocado to bite into at once. Oh damn, he’d almost forgotten how oily and creamy the vegetable was; it’d been a while. Sans moaned in pleasure, completely forgetting she was there to dig into the dish more. The egg was fried along with the avocado, yolk and all, which was fine by him. It still felt light and airy, and the rice stuck to his teeth and mandible as he swallowed big bites.

Sans managed half of the bowl, eating up the whole of the avocado and egg, when his stomach rumbled a protesting groan of its own. It glowed vividly, and it was tight and sweating on its own from the strain of all of this magic. He felt as though pins were being pressed into his side as he shakily put more rice in his mouth. He pinched his eyesockets shut, leaning back into the chair to clutch and rub at his swollen gut. ( _Come on, you can finish this. Don’t get drowsy now…_ ) “ngh- ugh…huff…hah-ha…” Sans panted and heaved short breaths, squirming under the pressure of his own phalanges against the rubbery, skin-like surface.

“Uh, are you alright? You don’t actually have to finish it if you-”

##  **“BBBBLLUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPP!”**

He belched loudly over the ambient sounds of the mall, quieting down a decibel as some wandering eyes spied him and Undyne. She stared, lip curling and he sighed out in relief, continuing to coax the tension out of his belly.

“Okay, that was pretty gross. But… I guess it was also kind of awesome?” He beamed up at her suddenly, hands still squishing down his membrane and poking around at the sharp knots.

“aw, i’m- _hic_!, so touched that you would appreciate my burpese.”

“I didn’t say anything about _appreciating_ that. Just, I had no idea you could get so loud.”

“neat, huh?”

“Mmm, try "vulgar”.“

"close enough for me.” Sans shrugged and laid his skull back, squirming in his seat. That belch relieved a little pressue, but it still felt tight and uncomfortable. He looked at the rice left in the bowl, then up at Undyne’s vigilant gaze.

“Calling it quits?”

“n-nah. can you, _hurgh_ , pass along the cheesecake?”

“…no joke?” She hesitated before fishing it out of the bag, opening up the styrofoam container and passing it off. “This I’ve _got_ to see.”

“g-good, well, hffh, don’t blink now… time to show off my, _nngh,_ disa..pearing magic…” He inhaled one last breath as deep as he could, psyching himself up for this with a grimacing grin. ( _You’re going to finish it._ ) His stomach was an angry, swirling cauldron of magic, and a little pain prickled down his spinal column. Sans refused to allow it to stop him. He just knew he could handle the rest of this. He knew it.

After a moment he dove in, stuffing his face with as much of the rice as he could and swiping the sticky, sweet clumps up with his tongue. He managed to fill his mouth completely with the last of it and the magic burned all the way down. He strained, bones shaking, as he clamped his own jaw shut. The absorption was painful and dizzying and Sans’ stomach creaked and groaned, pushing out just a bit more to accommodate the addition, but he held fast.

“hff,” He let out a shallow gasp and took the pie slice with both hands before he could rationally change his mind, or the the pain-induced drowsiness could spirit him away to an achey, inflamed slumber. Tenderly, but shaking with a trifecta of thirst, desire, and agony, he slid the entire creamy dessert between his teeth and chewed deliberately. The taste of the dry but extremely rich cake nearly drowned out the suffering. Sans leaned back and gripped the edges of his chair as his body’s magic protested, thrashing inside. For a long, painful moment, he feared he was going to reject it as his mouth remained full of cheesecake before it began to dissipate.

( _Oh geez…_ ) His head was swimming, his stomach was heavy and bloated under him, and his sight was as blurred as an impressionist painting. His magic dragged him down into a vortex of drowsiness and he blinked slowly, first with one eyesocket, then the other, as he struggled to make out the abstract-looking Undyne in front of him.  
He didn’t remember passing out.

 

* * *

 

 

He did remember waking up, at least. He was too uncomfortable to sleep much, his bloated tummy still tight with aching magic. It gurgled over the sounds of casual conversation, light beeping, and elevator music. Sighing, he shifted to blindly rub and was a bit surprised by just how hot and sticky it felt under his sweater. Sans massaged the sides of his swollen gut, then frowned to himself upon feeling an intrusion. Uhh, a… strap?

His eyelights lazily came into focus on racks of clothes bearing metal studding and weird, rippled textures, most full length and wide bottomed. Okay maybe this was a little weird, but he did fall asleep in a mall. The part that _woke him,_ as in _really woke him_ , was the realization that he was staring at the hems of these dresses while strapped into _a baby stroller_. A sizable one, but a stroller no less.

( _Seriously? Come on, I am obviously too big for this shit._ ) At the very least he was probably over the weight limit, stretching out the nylon support. His belly definitely didn’t like this tight seat belt, so it had to go. He tried to lean forward but couldn’t fight through it, between his aching gut’s bulge and the strap holding him back from leaning too far forward. ( _Gimme a break…_ ) Sans tried again, squirming to reach around and under the stroller to the buckle at the base… Nope, nothing. To make matters worse, the additional pressure forced his magic toward his ribcage sickeningly.

“ngh–ugh,” He panted and sank back, accepting that he was trapped for now. It wasn’t long until his captor showed up anyway, pulling the chair back and looking down at him.

“Oh hey, you’re awake! Okay, tell me honestly, does this look like something a yakuza would wear?” Undyne was wearing a red plaid skirt and a jagged metal necklace, painted red and white, and had complemented the outfit with a studded wristband and similarly-adorned black jacket.

“oh yes, i, the expert in all things yakuza, have an accurate opinion and reliable fashion expertise to base it on,” Sans stated, deadpan. “this amazing offer of enlightenment can be yours for the low, low price of unbuckling me now.”

“Alright, smartass, but only if you’re ready to join us in walking on those perfectly good foot-bones of yours.” _Foot-bones_ , really? He grinned and gave a sigh of relief when the strap came off, but remained snuggled in the chair regardless. That was much better.

“how do you know that? maybe there’s something rotten _afoot_.”  

“Don’t start with me, Sans.”

“you’re the one who put me in a stroller.”

“Pfft, I wasn’t gonna carry you around, that’s Papyrus’ job! And if you hate it so much, then get up already.”

“nah,” Sans leaned back and closed his eyesockets, patting his tummy. “i’d hate to waste an opportunity to be extra lazy. also, i thought alph said yakuza were gang people, don’t they wear suits n’ stuff?”

“Really?” She growled in frustration, yanking the sweater off over her head. “She said I’d rock a yakuza cosplay, but I don’t know what the hell to get! This is so FRUSTRATING!”

“did you ask her what to get?”

“No, I wanted to surprise her!” She balled the sweater up in her hands and threw it at the ground in an angry huff. “She constantly has to remind me or tell me what’s going on with this stuff, and I just feel so stupid for not knowing it already.”

“ok but… asking me doesn’t make you feel stupid?”

“You’re both nerds in my book! So… I guess you have a point.” Undyne scooped the abused sweater off of the ground and stomped off with a frown, leaving Sans to nurse his aching tummy, content. He spied air pockets when he lifted up his shirt to inspect it, but chose not to disturb them after considering what a magical surge could do to him while he was like this. Kneading his sore, overly-stuffed tum was a delicate operation. “You feeling alright?” Undyne asked.

Sans lifted his skull, but only caught a glimpse of the fish monster’s fiery hair. She’d taken the handles of his stroller and started to wheel him away. A bump along the ground made him wince slightly. “uh… just, be gentle. i’ll be fine.” Surprisingly, she slowed down just a touch. “yeah… that’s good. thanks.” He watched mall-goers occasionally stare at him, some going as far as to judgmentally sneer at his method of transportation. Meanwhile, Sans sank back into his jacket and grinned wide. ( _This is weirdly fun and utterly pathetic. )_

“Hey, Sans? Can I ask a favor?” He broke from his unnerving eye contact with a disgusted squid down the hall and gave Undyne his attention.

“what’s that?”

Undyne lowered her voice. “You know we’re not ready to handle the humans if they attack us. We have to get some kind of a defense force together before that barrier comes down.”

“i dunno,” Sans admitted, resettling himself into a more comfortable position. “i mean, most monsters are taught the basics of what’d work best for them by their families and friends. who’s to say we aren’t ready?”

“Don’t kid yourself, playfighting isn’t the same thing.”

“it’s easy to kid myself… when i’m sitting in a stroller-”

“I can fix that if you want, the floor is taking reservations!!”

“hahaha! ooh… okay nevermind, i-i don’t wanna laugh.” Sans swallowed weakly and went back to rubbing his bloated belly. “hhf, alright, i do get it. the population’s mostly made up of younger monsters like us who’ve never seen war. but, even with all of the training you’ve put yourself through, you never did bring yourself to hurt the kid. what makes you think you can get all of these softies like me to change our minds?”

“Oh, I won’t, that’s for sure,” Undyne sighed and slowed to a stop, sitting down on the ledge of a wall to fix her boot laces and avoid looking at him. “But some monsters will take our safety seriously and stand with me. Like the ol’ guard.”

“and papyrus,” He chimed in, scrutinizing.

“Nah. Paps won’t ever stop being a softie. He’d be better off trying to talk to the humans with Queen Toriel and you.” Papyrus wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d get upset, scold the fly, and then encourage them to get tangled up in his mildly unpleasant trap. He’d probably end up securing the fly a safe, accepting environment where they could be with other flies and learn to slowly integrate with a society that considered them pests.

Something like that, Sans thought.

“yeah. that’s why he’s the coolest,” Sans smiled. “but honestly, if you’re talking about defensive training, why not teach a class instead? that way pap can participate, and i think tori would go for it.” She whipped her head up and studied his face.

“And why’s that?”

“well, she’s just worried about… conditioning.”

“Uh, obviously toned, I’m not letting slackers like you-”

“-no, not that kind of conditioning,” He tried leaning toward her, but his belly reminded him quickly of his Preferred Position and he slouched back obediently. “mental conditioning. like, look at pap’s sentry work for example. i once convinced him a rock was a _human_ to be captured ‘cause he was so fixated on finding one.”

She pursed her lips. “I-… I can’t say I’m surprised actually. But, he hadn’t seen one before anyway.”

“yeah, but the point is, if your job is to stand around and wait for something bad to happen, at some point, you’re going to interpret an innocent disagreement as a call to arms.” Sans shrugged, closing his eye sockets. “she just wants every opportunity to keep things peaceful. that’s how i understand it, anyway.”

“I still don’t think most monsters can honestly defend themselves against a human, but if you think she’d go for it… I’m down for anything to help stave off any danger,” She sighed. “So. A class in self defense instead of a group to protect monsters? You’ll twist her arm for me?” ( _Talking like that, it’s not that surprising Tori doesn’t trust you still, Undyne…_ )

“no. but i’ll talk to her if you give me more time to handle papyrus’ diet stuff. he was… way more worked up than i expected.” She stomped her foot back down with a sharp thump and glared directly into his eyesockets.

“You better make it quick, because I still mean what I said. I’m not gonna go out of my way to tell him, but he’s getting the truth if he comes crying to me about it again.” Well, he couldn’t expect that much more.

“i hear ya…” He scratched his temporal bone and nodded. Thinking it over, he took out his cell and texted Papyrus.

*** im @ the mall. want anything while im here?**


	8. Gaining Games, breakfast sweets, cupcakes, & cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (( Double update! Silly skeleton brothers ahead, and Muffet’s back with a vengeance. Read chapter 7, Walls Between Us, before this chapter! That way you stay in order chronologically.
> 
> You can find the compilation of Sans’ Sin Quest chapters linked in the sidebar of this blog under “Masterpost”! Also, our ko-fi donation widget is there too, just in case you want to feed an irl skele with your love & money. ♥
> 
> Spit warning (for those hyper sensitive to vomit), not-really-consensual belly touching/feeding, and mild vore warnings apply this chapter. Wait, vore? Yes, because revenge is sweet.
> 
> Brother cuddles are not tilted to be fontcest, so please be respectful and do not contact me or reblog it with shipping connotations! Thank you!
> 
> Other’s work mention- Cinnamon Cafe mention by @here-comes-the-sinmobile and Kari-Anne the mail carrier is an OC of @cwinter6 ! Thanks guys, I’ll let you know if I use them again!))

It felt good just to hang out and goof off with Papyrus again. He got to see Papyrus’ accomplishments against other players in a puzzle game online, play with their action figures together, and watch MTT news while tallying how much product placement the two could spot. There agreed on a light dinner consisting of egg ravioli - Papyrus had learned how to use pasta dough as pot sticker sheets, perfect for holding the separated egg and spices like basil, pepper, lemon curd, and salt. They looked easy enough for even Sans to make, but they would never taste as good. Food _always_ tasted best when he didn’t have to do anything for it. Drowsiness hit him in the middle of playing Scrabble, which he suggested after schooling Papyrus on some words in the books he was stumbling through.

“SANS? SAAAANS IS THIS RIGHT?” Papyrus asked.

Sans opened his heavy eyesockets, glancing over to the newly added tiles. “huh… uhh, sorry bro, that ain’t a word either. why not just skip this round?”

“I ALREADY SKIPPED THE LAST ROUND,” Papyrus pouted at him before staring hard back at his letter rack. “THE ONLY WORD I CAN THINK OF WITH AN X IS XYLOPHONE, BUT I DON’T EVEN HAVE ENOUGH LETTERS FOR IT.”

“maybe you have enough for a xylo _bone,_ then?” Sans chuckled as Papyrus nudge-kicked him under the table.

“THAT’S NOT A WORD EITHER, SANS!”

“mmm, yeah, well…” He tried to resist, but a big yawn escaped him anyway. “its better than watching you sit there an’ be _vexed_ all night…”

“I CAN DO THIS! I JUST… MIGHT NEED A REFERENCE. NYEHEH…” Papyrus shifted in his seat, still feeling too sheepish to grab their dictionary. Sans just stared at him until what he said sunk in and his little brother swiveled his head back to look at him. “WAIT, WHAT DID YOU SAY? THAT WASN’T A PUN, WAS IT?”

“i said its better than watching you sit there and be vexed all night.”

“SIT AND WATCH ME BE WHAT?”

“vexed? to vex? that vexing hex was a pox to the fox,” He grinned, pleased Papyrus had picked up his subtle word drop.

“VEX! YES, OF COURSE, THAT IS MY MISSING PUZZLE PIECE!” Triumphantly, Papyrus swept up the little tile letters in his gloves and deliberately placed them onto the board. Sans looked down at his set of available tiles, which he had already arranged to spell “elf fart,” and flipped it to lay face-down on the table. 

“oh geez, look at that, i’ve got nothing. guess you beat me at this too, bro.”

“BROTHER, YOU DIDN’T EVEN _TRY_ TO SPELL A WORD!”

“sure i did, it’s spelled f-o-r-f-e-i-t.” Papyrus tried spelling out the word for himself, Sans stretched like a cat and scooted his chair back.

“WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE FORFEIT? FORFEIT ISN’T SPELLED WITH AN E!”

“sure it is, because forfeiting is the **_E_** -asy way out.” Papyrus slapped both hands to his face, prompting Sans to chuckle.

“I DON’T KNOW IF YOU’RE JOKING OR SERIOUS.”

“actually, i’m sans-” He ducked down as Papyrus flipped the game board in frustration, the scattered pieces everywhere making him laugh that much harder. “ha ha ha! maybe try to deliver your letters through the mail next time.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS DONE PLAYING THIS GAME WITH YOU,” Papyrus put on his best displeased face but he was fighting off some chuckles. He sniffed indignantly and started picking up his mess, putting the Scrabble board away. “I TAKE IT NOW IS A GOOD TIME FOR PEEKABOO WITH FLUFFY BUNNY?”

“uh-huh,” Sans mumbled through his grin, pleasantly exhausted and watching Papyrus clean up by himself. “think i can read it to you here? i’m _bone_ tired.”

“BUT I HAVEN’T EVEN CHANGED TO GO TO BED YET! OR BRUSHED MY TEETH!” Ahh, Papyrus and his routines. Well, no use fighting it - Sans just slumped further in his seat and yawned again.

“ok. come get me when you’re done.”

He fell asleep as soon as he heard Papyrus’ boots hit the staircase. Sans was jostled awake a bit later when he was scooped up into his brother’s arms and carried upstairs. His tummy rolled with the motion, but not unpleasantly, though it was a bit pinched between them. Sans sighed into Papyrus’ clavicle.

Papyrus sat him at his usual bedside chair and Sans recited the book from memory, too tired to fumble with pages. Once done, he stayed in place, initially believing he could nap here until he felt awake enough to drag himself back to his room… Then the ratty hem of his sweater, near-covering his belly, was tugged at, and he opened his eye sockets again.

“wassup bro?”

Papyrus hesitated, then asked, “CAN YOU STAY HERE WITH ME TONIGHT?”

Well, that was a bit odd. Sans hadn’t slept in bed with him for years now - wait, was it years? Okay, either way, it felt like it had been a while. ( _Maybe he just wants affirmation I’m here after being gone for three days._ ) As it was, Sans wasn’t going to refuse him anything right now.

“sure.”

He leaned over and flopped into the bed unceremoniously, bouncing on the bed as Papyrus scooted closer to the wall. It was… Surprisingly cramped. He definitely remembered having plenty of space between them before, but Sans’ new girth now restricted them. They had to scoot up close to one another to avoid the wooden inlay of the bed, with little arm room to spare. Awkward as it was, he giggled under his breath, totally thrilled by the prospect. No more tiny, easy-to-shove-into-cabinets-and-lockers Sans. Though he sensed discomfort from his brother, as he hadn’t yet accepted draping his arms over Sans, the only obvious space answer. Sans looked up at his face, “this okay?”

“AH… Y-YES, I SUPPOSE. IF YOU ARE FINE?” 

“mmhmm.” Carefully, Papyrus tucked his arms around Sans’ scapulae, weirdly unsure of how to proceed with contact despite having a daily habit of picking him up and carrying him around. Sans just shrugged off the oddity of Papyrus’ apprehension in favor of the sweet grip of sleep.

 

 

Sans woke later to the gnawing feeling of hunger creeping in, which was pretty inconvenient considering he was currently entangled with his brother - whoa, he woke up _before_ Papyrus? That was unusual. It was also a bit unusual to be hungry again this soon; sure, he’d had a small dinner, but his lunch was massive and his strawberry ice cream binge that morning was super massive… ( _Heh, that’s good though right? I have to eat more, so no use looking a gift horse in the mouth._ ) Unless maybe it had an crabapple in its mouth he could bite. 

Hmm, what _would_ he eat anyway? There was a little light coming in through the window, so maybe that Cinnamon Cafe he spied yesterday in New Home would be open? Out of all of the shops they strolled by, they showed the most promise, and the city “never sleeps”, as they say. Oh, but then there was Muffet’s shop in Hotland…! He had to get back to her today, all this time working at getting a ‘good customer’ status with her wasn’t going to waste! ( _Just to **waist**._ ) He grinned to himself, looking down to evaluate how much longer he could hold off or if it was worth rummaging through his junky snack pile… When he realized Papyrus was cuddling him.

Now, granted, though not an every day occurrence, they could cuddle and they _had_ cuddled. The anomaly here was him cuddling Sans’ _belly_ , both arms wrapped around his midsection, still-gloved hands clutching his pudgy magic and pressed into his new jacket. Papyrus wound up spooning the rest of his frame. ( _How is that so adorable?_ ) His eye sockets squinted, unsure what to do or how to feel. Now that he was more awake, he could discern his brother’s distinct magic humming nearby his tummy. It was gentle and strong, just like Papyrus.

Should it be weird, though? This felt nice, and before his ‘ _diet’_ became an issue, neither had any qualms about sharing anything and everything. Utensils, spaces, bones, _bodies_ … Fondly, Sans recalled the time when Papyrus and Undyne came home in a panic because the former had disjointed his magic during training. Maybe yanking his _own_ ulna out of his humerus was not the best response to the situation, but there was _no_ regretting switching appendages and practicing awkward high fives. Sans snickered and squirmed for his cell phone delicately as to not disturb Papyrus. Looking up hilarious photos was better than lamenting how they were both allowing his stomach to come between them.

He really _did_ try to stifle his laughter, but still woke up Papyrus. Hands flew off of his bulging belly and Sans looked up at his brother’s close and alarmed face to smile sheepishly.

“heh. sorry, did i wake you?”

“NO, I THOUGHT MY PILLOW WAS SHAKING,” Papyrus looked down at his waist uncomfortably. “I… GUESS I WAS MISTAKEN.” Sans looked down at the photos of Papyrus bearing his smaller left arm and posing with a little tea cup. Maybe instead of hiding his belly to cater to the discomfort, he could find a way to make his little bro okay with the idea… Like he did with disjointing magic. Maybe he could do this after all. 

“you’re not _wrong_ , in a sense,” He grinned back. “soft and lumpy is kind of my thing. musta been all those pillows i ate at alphys’.”

“TELL ME YOU DID NOT EAT A PILLOW!”

“not successfully.”

“SANS!” Papyrus rolled off of Sans to straddle the wooden inlay of the bed and the wall to his right. “ACTUALLY, HOW ARE YOU EVEN AWAKE RIGHT NOW?”

“eh, i was hungry.”

“I HOPE YOU WEREN’T PLANNING ON EATING ME LIKE YOU DID THAT PILLOW.”

“no way bro.” He paused as Papyrus moved over him to get up out of bed, adding, “you’re nothin’ but _bones_ anyway.”

“OH MY GOD IT IS TOO EARLY FOR THIS!” Papyrus stomped his calcaneus into the carpet in protest, turning back around to face him. “PLEASE GET OUT OF MY BED NOW, I NEED TO MAKE IT.”

Sans twisted to reach for the dashboard-decorated headboard of the car bed, giving him a sad look. “ ‘fraid i can’t do that pap. i’m bed _rid_ e-den.” Papyrus rolled his eyesockets somehow and picked him up, setting him back down on the storytime chair to finish tidying.

“YOU’RE _CRUISING_ FOR A BRUISING IS WHAT YOU ARE, NYEHEHEH.”

“heh heh heh, good one bro.” He browsed through his cell phone’s messages while the other got changed into his beloved battle body armor.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I LET YOU SLEEP IN MY BED WEARING THAT NASTY SWEATER.”

“yeah, i guess i ought to change. we’ve got a rep meeting at ten and i shouldn’t embarrass tori any more than i already do.”

“YOU COULD START BY NOT PRANKING THE REPRESENTATIVES WITH WHOOPIE CUSHIONS.”

“not a chance.” _Gggrrrrummbbblrrr_ , his tummy gurgled eagerly and Sans squirmed anxiously on his seat. Wow, he felt _much_ hungrier than he did a couple minutes ago. Maybe it had something to do with Papyrus‘ magic nearby calming the blue beast? Papyrus pulled his skull through the armor and scrunched up his face.

“SANS, DON’T PRACTICE YOUR GROSS HUMOR IN MY ROOM!”

“actually, that was my stomach. did you have an idea about breakfast?”

“OH… WELL! WE HAD EGGS LAST NIGHT SO MAYBE I CAN USE THE REST OF THEM ON FRENCH TOAST. THE QUEEN SHOWED US THE OTHER DAY HOW TO SOAK THE BREAD IN EGGS JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT! BUT FRYING IT WOULD BE BAD FOR YOUR DIET, SO I THINK I’LL SEE IF BAKING IT IN THE OVEN WILL TURN OUT OKAY-” Not that he was against finally trying the recipe Undyne had taunted him with, but Sans interrupted Papyrus.

“that’s great bro, but do you think we can do that another time? there’s someone i was supposed to meet up with for breakfast.” When Papyrus gave him a crestfallen look, he quickly added. “you should totally come with! she’s a doll, you’ll love her.”

“I’D LOVE TO!” Papyrus beamed but then looked back at his drawer. “I HAVE TO WEAR SOMETHING NEW AND DAZZLING IF I’LL BE MEETING A NEW FRIEND! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS A STANDARD OF IMPRESSING PEOPLE WITH HIS FASHION SENSE AFTER ALL, NYEH HEH HEH!” He dove into his closet, picking apart his wardrobe.

Sans grinned and watched him playfully, patting his grumbling gut. He just had to hang in there until she opened shop. It was always worth the wait.

 

His brother had to get dressed and undressed about two dozen times before pairing up a chiffon blouse tunic with a pleated bottom and flouncing sleeves, a wide brimmed hat, and slacks which accentuated his slimness. Then he had to shower, re-dress, brush his teeth, vacuum the hallway, bug Sans into changing his sweater again since he hadn’t even moved from that chair yet, check his mail, feed the annoying dog which turned up again in their pantry and wrap up leftovers nicely with a loud written notice to only eat this packed lunch and not to go to Grillby’s. By this point, Sans’ hunger was too intense for him to wait any longer. He snuck into the kitchen to grab a bottle of ketchup and a bag of chisps, but the damn noisy bag alerted Papyrus.

“BROTHER, NO, WE’RE GOING OUT FOR BREAKFAST! REMEMBER?” He sauntered in and snatched the snack away, putting them back.

“remember? how could i _forget_ ,” Sans moaned over his aching stomach. “c’mon, let’s _go_ already, i’m wasting away here.”

“HARDLY,” Papyrus sighed, feeding the pet rock then turning back. “OKAY! THE HOUSE IS SET FOR OUR EXCURSION!”

“finally. i know a great short cut to hotland-”

“NO SHORT CUTS! I NEED TO DO MY MORNING JOG TO GET PUMPED UP FOR ANOTHER WONDERFUL DAY!” Sans flopped face-first into the couch and whined into it. He _seriously_ couldn’t do this again, not after the last few days… Papyrus picked him up and set him upon his feet again, gloves cupping his cheekbones. “COME ON LAZY BONES, YOU ESPECIALLY COULD USE THE EXERCISE! YOU’LL FEEL MORE ENERGIZED AND GET IN A BETTER MOOD!”

“i’d be in a better mood if i wasn’t starving.”

“DON’T OVER EXAGGERATE. IF YOU WERE STARVING, YOU WOULDN’T HAVE ALL OF THAT… STUFF!”

“first of all, that has nothing to do with being hungry. secondly, that ‘stuff’ is _my magic_ , bro,” Sans pleaded, slumping to let Papyrus support him upright entirely. “it’s _me_. can you just do a little favor and stop talking about it like its some horrible growth or parasite?” Papyrus drew back, mildly affronted and nearly dropping Sans before realizing he was the only thing keeping his brother from falling into a heap on the ground. 

“AH, I SEE. I DON’T…” He fidgeted and had a hard time keeping his sights on his face. “I’M SORRY…?”

“its ok,” Sans reassured, knowing instinctively that Papyrus meant well. He just didn’t get it, and considering his learning curve, he might not _ever_ get it. For this skeleton, hoping otherwise was too much effort, and quitting and enduring the jabs much more viable. “sorry for being grouchy. i’m hungry _and_ tired, and i don’t want to get all worn out before i have to deal with some ugly people.”

“Y-YOU’RE RIGHT, BROTHER, AND I _AM_ SORRY. I SHOULD REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE DOING WELL FOR YOU!” Papyrus added on a happier note, grinning through his nervous jitter, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOT UNGRATEFUL FOR YOUR EFFORTS.”

“i know you are, it’s ok.”

“I SHOULD BE THANKING _YOU_! WORKING THREE DAYS IN A ROW AND YOU’RE READY TO GO BACK TO WORK AGAIN THE NEXT DAY? THAT HAS TO BE A NEW RECORD FOR YOU, SANS!” 

“really, stop. you don’t have to make up for a mistake by praising me.”

“BUT I WANT TO! A-AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SAYING A MEAN THING, I UNDERSTAND SAYING NICE THINGS WON’T MAKE IT BETTER. IT WILL BE BETTER BECAUSE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL HOLD TRUE TO MY WORD AND NOT SPEAK BADLY ABOUT YOUR- …YOU!” Sans closed his eyesockets and exhaled heavily, now filled with regret for bringing this up. “THAT IS ALL BESIDE THE POINT! YOU SHOULD HAVE YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS ACKNOWLEDGED-”

“you don’t even know if i _succeeded_ -”

“TRYING IS AN ACHIEVEMENT TOO!”

“i made you upset-”

“WELL I WAS BEING SELFISH.”

##  _gggllllurrrghkkk_

His noisy gut cut through the awkward tension. Sans laughed suddenly, besides himself with how stupid all of this was. “heh ha ha ha, i- i think we’re arguing in a circle.”

“NO, WE ARE MOST DEFINITELY ARGUING IN A SQUARE.” Sans shot his bright eyelights up to Papyrus’s grin and the brothers fell aside into hysterics, crumpling to the floor and shoving each other playfully.

And just like that, they were back in sync as if nothing was ever wrong. Papyrus carried him piggy-back the whole way there, never mentioning his heavier frame. Sans did his part and didn’t whine about how much longer this route was taking them, especially as his brother had to greet every monster along the way. 

 

 

Muffet’s stand had just finished serving the mumbling condor harpy who delivered the mail. Papyrus planted himself right beside her, allowing Sans to slide off his backside to navigate around them. “GREETINGS NOBLE MAIL CARRIER! I HAVE BEEN MEANING TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR DILIGENCE FOR A WHILE NOW!” She dipped her head down, eyes flashing wide, and fumbled with the spider donut looped over her long nose.

“U-u-h-hh-mm, I-I-yee…”

“bro, c’mon, leave kari-anne be.” Slipping in the space between them, she took off into the air, flustered, before Papyrus could even look back.

“BUT I- AW, SHE LEFT… THAT’S OKAY! I WILL EXPRESS MY GRATITUDE SOME OTHER TIME! HAVE A GOOD FLIGHT,” He waved exuberantly.

“you should try writing her a letter. i don’t think she likes being cornered much.”

“Ahuhuhu,” Muffet leaned over her shiny new stand, lacing one set of hands together. “Good morning~ My, I was wondering where you skittered off to. Is this your brother then, Sans?”

“yep. he’s the coolest isn’t he?” Papyrus pivoted back, grinning at them both and curtsying.

“GREETINGS! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HEAD OF THE ROYAL GUARD! AND THAT’S GUARD, AS IN, _GARDEN_ , NYEH HEH HEH.”

“He _is_ quite a treat, huhu! Are you here for breakfast too, doll?”

“OH YES! I SHALL ORDER AT ONCE!” It only took a moment for Papyrus to skim over the menu before announcing his selection. “HOW ABOUT WE BOTH HAVE A CROISSANT?” He glanced down at his brother, who gave him a weak smile back, stomach growling the only audible answer. Then, Papyrus turned to look at Muffet. “OKAY! THAT SHALL BE OUR ORDER PLEASE.” Her smile was sweet, almost saccharine, but Sans could feel that something was certainly off about her by the way her arms twitched into motion… And it probably had everything to do with what felt off about _him_. Clutching his tummy, he held his breath and leaned back to skim over the enticing menu.

“can i, uh, also have-”

“COME NOW, BROTHER, I KNOW YOU CAN DO BETTER,” He scolded gently while paying for their breakfast and sweeping the croissants off the counter. “LET ME BE YOUR MORAL SUPPORT IN RESISTING OVER-INDULGENCE! IF YOU ARE STILL HUNGRY AFTER THIS, MAYBE YOU CAN HAVE HALF OF MINE.” Sans had to question whether he or his brother was more out of touch with the situation. He trudged along after Papyrus to a nearby bench, ignoring the creak of protest when he sat down.

“that sounds good, bro, as long as you don’t want your own… cause then i should just get-” He shut up as the croissant was held out to him. Instantly he cleaved to irrational impulse and launched at it teeth first, snatching the pastry away from his brother’s hands. Papyrus was understandably startled but he slipped into chuckling at Sans’ buttery bliss. It was so good. The crust was golden brown and glazed lightly, though it crumbled thanks to the vigor with which he scarfed it. He loved Muffet’s fresh baking because she always got it _just_ right. He wolfed it down in the largest mouthfuls he could manage, so the poor pastry wasn’t savored for long. Sans regretted his crazed hunger when he quickly found himself empty-handed beside Papyrus, who had only nibbled a corner from of his croissant.

“WOWIE! THIS IS REALLY TASTY! MISS MUFFET IS A GREAT BAKER!” Papyrus exclaimed. Sans whined in agreement and hopelessly began licking at his hands, hoping he’d find some crumbs trapped between his phalanges.

“Ahuhuhu, thank you! I see good taste runs in the family,” Said Muffet, as she strode over to them with a couple of spiders.

“Yes, thank you,” One squeaked down below. “I love it here in Hotland, I don’t even have to wear a coat!”

“ ‘spose not there, buddy,” He grinned and awkwardly rubbed his saliva-drenched hands along the length of his shorts. “glad to have been uh, of service and all.”

“SANS, YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU HELPED THE SPIDERS GET OUT OF THE RUINS,” Papyrus set down his barely touched breakfast and Sans stared at it like a vulture. “MTT NETWORK DID A BULLETIN AND EVERYTHING, THEY SHOULD HAVE INTERVIEWED YOU!”

“nah i didn’t help _that_ much… we tried shortcuts once but the lil’ guys couldn’t handle the jump.”

“Sans, you better come see our spider diamond sometime! It’s the best field in the Underground!”

“The tall skeleton’s gonna be on _my_ team!”

“Bobby, nobody said they were playing with us!”

“Now now, let my patrons enjoy their meal in peace, spidletts,” Muffet reached each one of her hands to gently stroke each spider. “You can show off your game some other time.”

“I LOVE GAMES! WHAT KIND OF GAME IS IT?” Papyrus was vibrating with excitement.

“Baseball!”

“SPIDER baseball,” One of them corrected.

“It’s still baseball.”

“WHATEVER IT IS, IT SOUNDS FUN! MAYBE SOMETIME YOU CAN SHOW ME YOUR SPIDER BASEBALL AND I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN GIVE YOU SOME STUPEFYING PUZZLES! NYEH HEH!” An opportunity unfolded before him and Sans nudged at Papyrus’ elbow.

“why not just show ‘em now? you got a couple more hours before shift at least.”

“HMM…! A VERY GOOD POINT, AND THEY WOULD SURELY LOVE THE CHANCE TO EXPEDITE THEIR PUZZLE MASTER EXPERIENCE! BUT ONLY IF YOU DON’T MIND, THOUGH?”

“nah. i should go get notes together for the meeting anyway.” Papyrus brightened further, more radiant than the scorching lava, and gave him a short hug.

“GOOD LUCK THEN, BROTHER!” He looked back at the spiders to see them bouncing up and down, skittering around his feet. “OKAY THEN, MY LITTLE HAIRY FRIENDS! LET’S SEE ABOUT THIS FIELD OF YOURS!”

Sans and Muffet watched their family rush off, and when he was sure they were out of sight, he discretely snagged Papyrus’ breakfast off of the bench with blue magic and swiftly devoured it himself. No sense letting that go to waste, his brother would definitely not be coming back for it-

"So, what have you been up to, sweetheart~?” He looked up at her warily as he chewed, trying harder to read her posture. She wouldn’t be lingering here if she wasn’t mad, right? She had every right to be mad. Gingerly, Sans smiled.

“mmh, uh, i got tied up in some pretty complicated science stuff. i’m really sorry for not being here for the grand opening an’ all.” He paused to push the rest of the delicious croissant into his mouth and scan her posture again, a little too tense to his liking. “hones'h. plus'h, you shee, Paps'h is'h puttin me through a diet.”

“How is that though, hmm~? You’re bigger than you’ve ever been.” His skull flushed with magic and he squirmed shyly, licking the buttery glaze off of his teeth and patting his quieted tummy. Bigger than ever… And she hadn’t even seen him at his fullest.

“whelp, i guess you can _see right through me_ , heh heh heh… i’m trying to do this diet for him, but i guess i’m too deep into the _lifestyle of the thick and flabulous_.” Muffet brought a dainty hand up to her mouth to giggle, and he finally caught something stirring behind her stony eyes. Just a quick flash… ( _She’s definitely upset. I should take this more seriously… egh._ ) Sans rubbed the back of his skull, catching sweat between his phalanges. “but uh, please… i’m really sorry. i was excited for this too but i-… well, anyway, i blew it. this is my fault.”

“Oh, dearie,” She cooed and sat down on the bench beside him, taking one boney hand up with two of hers. “I _know_ that. If you’re asking for forgiveness, well…” He leaned in, tempting his hopes. “…I’m afraid you’re asking _the wrong spider_ , ahuhu. I told all of my spider friends that you were coming by for our grand opening, and they were _so_ disappointed.” Oh lovely, _of course_ he stood her up in front of her friends too. ( _Well, why the hell not, being a disappointment is supposedly my “lifestyle”._ ) Sans tried to muster a tired shrug but it came out more like a half-assed twitch in his humeri.

“phew, wow. that sucks. ha ha ha… though it’s probably fine this way, i doubt this loser could have met their expectations.”

“Don’t sweat it so much, sugar skull~ I know you can make it up to them. A bit of _entertainment_ will surely lift their spirits, ahuhu~.”

“uh,” He drawled and squinted at her intense stare. “i didn’t really come with any material today…”

“Oh no, it’ll be fine! Spiders _love_ to play games with our prey. You’ll be a good guest, won’t you~?” Games? Well, as creepy as she was at times, he wasn’t that worried about being prey. Besides, playing games should be an easy way to get out of being punished! 

“i’ll be as good as a guest with five-year-old humor can be,” He winked.

“Ahuhu! Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Suddenly, the lightly laid webs over the backside of the bench turned purple and liquefied, gripping him. He flinched, assuming it was Flowey at first, and summoned bones to retaliate before realizing it was the Muffet’s web. He resigned himself to his fate. Entangled in a cradle of goo, he tried licking it experimentally and grimaced at the aerosol-like flavor.

“yeughgh. i guess i’m kind of in a _sticky_ situation, huh?“

“Wouldn’t you know it~?” The webbing bound his torso tightly. Three strands shot up into the dark heights above, then yanked him up too. The lurch was sudden and dizzying, spiraling upward into the dark ceiling of the Underground. His ascent was roughest on his soft, bubbly belly, so once he got to… Wherever he was dangling, he spat out some frothy, magical spit, forcing out some air.

“ _bbrr **UUuhp**! Gluup_ , ugh… hey muffet, can i have a little warning next time you decide to throw me a couple stories into the air?” Pitch black silence answered. Sans tried not to let it rattle him, staring into the void. “muf..ffet?” No, there was something there, he saw shifting. Squinting his eyelights, he focused and finally spotted beady little eyes staring back. Thousands of eyes. ( _So, this is the spider’s nest, huh?_ ) His grin was tight and forced as he tried to smother his rising uncertainty. “so uh… heard ya’ll wanted me to _hang_ out?” Some squeaky snickers put him more at ease.

“Ahuhu! _Hang_ indeed,” Muffet’s voice cut through the silence and light suddenly cut through the dark space, blinding him momentarily. He squinted and looked around, observing the exposed baking stone she stood beside. A vein of magma ran underneath it. Muffet was dressed in her baking hat and apron and held a tin of some pastries yet to be baked.

He _so_ wished he wasn’t tied up over here instead, drooling to himself. He was so focused on the baked goods rising on the baking stone, he almost forgot he was surrounded by thousands of spiders, looking him over, a couple swinging over on their string. Sans snapped out of it when they crawled over his belly, twisting fruitlessly to try to free a hand to shoo them away.

“Ah- ngh, stop, th-that tickles ha ha…!” They scattered, evidently skittish.

“Now, be nice to our guest. You all wanted to play hangman, right?“ Sans was shocked at the cascade of happy squeaks, the cavern walls crawling with excited spiders hanging on webs. "Then let’s begin~ Do you know how to play, Sans?” 

“that’s the word guessing game, right?” He chuckled. “yep, it’s a _dead_ ringer. i know a skele- _ton_ about it.” The spiders buzzed further in glee and he basked in it. 

“Yes that’s right~ They’ll show you blank card sheets and you have to guess what letter is behind them. If you answer right, I’ll give you a sweet reward~ And if you answer wrong…” She steepled a pair of hands while removing the finished cupcakes off of their heating rack, stirring up icing with the final pair. “Ahuhu, well you’re _already_ hanging, so I suppose the _opposite_ would be true.”

( _Oh._ ) As wonderful as this game sounded, he really hated falling. Sans looked up at the three threads suspending him from the large web in the ceiling and fidgeted nervously.

“uh, i thought most hangman games gave you like, six tries before you lose…?”

“We prefer high risk, high reward games~ Ahuhu!” The spiders echoed her sentiment.  He shifted his slipper to keep it from falling off, looking back as she ran the cold piping bag over the cupcake, icing it perfectly. _Fuck_ , he swore he could even smell it from here.

“i-i see,” Sans panted with desire, tummy rumbling again. “then uh, i guess _i’m game_. heh.” The small cheers quieted to a hushed murmur and the spiders swarmed. They came up with their first challenge after a minute. Twelve spiders descended from the large web above, each on their own string, each holding a piece of blank card. They spaced out to indicate three words, with two, four and six letters. Sans sighed in relief, more confident that he could guess a phrase than a single long word. 

Well, the best way to tackle hangman was obviously to start with the most common letters. Sans guessed right away, “any e’s in there?” Three spiders flipped over cards and he beamed at the tiny clapping that followed.

“Very good~ Open wide,” Muffet chuckled and slid one of her cupcakes up the web. He watched it loop around and descend on his support strings, quickly biting it so it didn’t pass by.

“ _mmmh_ ,” He moaned through the mouthful, chewing through the rich chocolate cake. It had a whipped buttercream mint icing, flecked with high quality chocolate chunks - not too sweet, just a nice little crunch to add to the soft, melting cupcake. It was gone with a large gulp, and a lick to clean up the mess. “that was _divine_ , muffet. but that’s why you’re the best though.” The room got loud with cheering and she tugged at the frills of her apron with a coquettish bat of her many eyes.

“Oh stop that sweetheart, you’ll make this spider blush~”

“Guess again! Guess again,” The spiders’ collective voices chanted over squeaks of agreement. Sans was so amused by the monsters he wondered briefly who was entertaining who here.

“alright then, how about a t?” Everything stilled in apprehension… Then the very last spider on the end flipped their card over. Sans exhaled a heavy sigh of relief, twisting in place to look at Muffet. She obliged, sending along another cupcake through the chute-like web apparatus. This one was messier, though the toasted meringue frosting successfully entered his mouth whole. It was quite sugary but the slightly charred exterior gave it a grainy crunch. Sans swallowed that down before carefully guiding the moist cake back into his mouth. It was a lemon cupcake, obviously designed around traditional lemon meringue pie. The cool, tart lemon curd was well-matched with the moist and fresh pastry. It was pre-made before this game, obviously, but that was no issue. He licked his teeth over once more for good measure. 

For his third guess, he went with another vowel - an “o”, of which there was one in the second word. Sans studied it a moment longer, mulling over the words he knew that contained “_o_e”, at least until the next cupcake was delivered. He missed catching it entirely this time but reacted fast, reaching out with his blue magic to draw it back. Apparently Muffet was experimenting with converting more pies to cupcakes as this one was coconut cream. A buttery graham cracker crust supported a coconut pudding cookie, filled to bursting with coconut mousse and topped with fresh whipped cream. Sans only wished there was more of it and that he could have used his hands to tenderly eat the morsel. Delicacy like this deserved better than stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

He studied the letters again, working over the word. Bone? Maybe too obvious. Home? Hole? Hope? Okay, he had a lot of options with h. “gimme an h.” The pause didn’t yield any turned over cards and his stomach sank, wincing. “aw nuts.”

“Awww, poor bite~” Muffet laughed and released one of the ties binding him in place. His right side hung lower but his torso was still bound, though he was dangling a little precariously. His magic burned and trembled with his heightened nerves. Sans forced a smile, watching her delight before shakily looking back at the cards.

( _Wait._ )

“it says ‘we love muffet’,” He blurted out before his sense of self preservation could catch up to the discovery. The spider clan didn’t hesitate this time, exploding with excitement as they turned over the letters and, yes, it definitely spelled out his proclamation. Sans sighed in relief.

Muffet looked the most taken aback. “Aw, my dear, precious friends…! I love you all too.” She giggled and twirled her whisk and spoon with a roll of her wrists, exciting the spiders even more. Along came another cupcake for him. “You’re very good at this game, Sans, ahuhu~”

This cupcake was an easier catch, and he moaned loudly as soon as the flavor ignited his senses. This was a super moist, rich red velvet cupcake, the icing thick and tasting of a real, sweet cream cheese. The vanilla was just a touch more potent but that made the two flavors blend nicely, and Sans found himself licking his chops, tummy growling for more.

“hey, i thought it was one cupcake per correct letter. i think you owe me four more cupcakes there,” He winked, staring at her baking sheets lustfully. 

“Well,” Muffet hummed, gesturing with one hand but pouring herself a spot of spider cider in a cup. “It’s one cupcake for each correct guess, but I suppose you can wash it down before we begin, hm~?” She tipped the teapot along the magic line, pouring liquid up to the ceiling web and back down on him.  

The cider came fast, some splashing down on his skull but he tried leaning back to drink instead. The lacking string made him twirl a little, spinning around the stream and frustrating him a smidgen. Spider cider was far from Sans’ favorite beverage but he’d never admit it to them; it tasted somewhat acidic and bitter, with a touch of bay leaves and cinnamon. He much preferred the sweet yet vinegary ketchup, but hey. “pfft,” He tried to blow the cider from his  drenched face and to shake it clear. Maybe he should stop asking for free stuff from her… 

The spiders came up with another three-word sentence with seven, two and four letters in each word. There was an “e” at the end, which he guessed first, earning him a scrumptious double maple cupcake with crisp bacon bits garnishing the fudge-thick icing. Two “o"s later and he wolfed down a delicious yellow cupcake with milk chocolate frosting and spider sprinkles. Guessing "a” won him a unique cupcake with a brownie baked into the bottom, cinnamon-sugar touched banana-bread like cake in the middle, and brown sugar cream cheese frosting on top. Picking out “s” allowed him to indulge in a coffee flavored cupcake dipped in warm gooey chocolate, sprinkled with hard, crunchy toffee bits, and a whipped caramel frosting to finish off the experience.

Sans’ tummy was tingling in bliss, though he noticed that as he ate he was sinking lower. He shot Muffet a suspicious look whenever the web tilted him one way or another. She smiled and kept baking, but something still felt amiss about her. She just wasn’t enjoying herself like the rest of her spider friends - the sweet little nest was clearly rooting for him. If it weren’t for that, well, he thought he could play this game all day.

“everything alright there,” He inquired before his next round.

“Ahuhu! Why, of course~ Maybe you should trying guessing at some words.” ( _Hmm, she’s up to something._ ) Sans put the suspicions aside and figured he had no choice but to play along anyway, looking back at the cards.

“allllllright then, how about ‘is’.” The spiders turned over their card and swayed on their web, clapping with their extra appendages. Sans smirked and fumbled to grab his next reward as it came along. He barely caught it on the edge of his teeth, scraping off the salted caramel candy along with some super thick frosting, reminiscent of dreamily smooth caramel corn with a pinch of salt. He was so caught up in the flavor he nearly lost the cake itself, flinching as it nearly slipped away and reining it back in with his tongue. 

Wow, having no hands sucked. He needed to remember to give that monster kid Undyne’s always bragging about a gold star. After struggling a moment, he got to enjoy the tender cupcake and icing together as a whole mouthful, caramel and brown sugar with undertones of butterscotch.

The spiders were a really fun audience; they seemed to love his precarious balancing act too. He felt a touch demure suddenly at their encouragement, blushing and staring down at his belly, rounding out underneath him.

“h..heheh… y'all are uh, too _sweet_ …” They hummed with excitement, squeaking various letters for him to try next, none of them standing out. Heh, if they loved games this much, Papyrus was probably having a blast with them. He looked at the remaining letters of the sentence and evaluated the spaces. Considering the source, this wasn’t too scary of a guess after all- “hotland is home.” 

Bingo! The spiders along the cavern ceiling danced along. Sans squirmed for his next reward like Pavlov’s dog, excited to catch a strawberry cupcake with pink frosting, hovering right on the edge of too sweet. His euphoric munching distracted him just long enough for one of the two strands tethering him to snap under weight. He fell further down, left eye flashing blue and outlining his shape to resist the descent. Fortunately, the other thread of webbing still remained attached to his chest bindings and caught him anyhow. Still, he looked up at Muffet in frustration.

“what gives?” 

“This web, apparently, ahuhu~” Try as he might to be unhappy with the development, he couldn’t resist snickering at the joke.

“i think you’re trying to _spin_ me a story. don’t drive yourself _up a wall_ just because i’m a master at hangman.”

“Be careful not to bite off more than you can chew~” She laughed while pouring more batter and shifting around the pans. Sans felt as uneasy as he hung, craning his head up to the next word the spiders came up with. One 11-lettered word. Yikes. But, what the hell, if Muffet wanted to pre-disposition him to lose, he might as well answer the first thing that comes to mind.

“underground.” The upper echelons of Hotland silenced entirely at his guess. 

Then it erupted, the spiders squealing, shouting and throwing spider-shaped confetti. Sans couldn’t mirror their enthusiasm this time, watching Muffet carefully as he dangled in place.

She slowed to stare at the cards, looking beside herself, before finishing icing a batch of cakes and sent the fresh treat on its way along her purple magic web. He caught it despite his incessant free spin, scrunching his eyesockets closed to prevent himself from getting dizzy while eating. It was a lot more plain and that made sense considering it wasn’t prepared earlier in advance, but the cupcake was scrumptious nonetheless. The compact sour cream pound cake was vanilla flavored with smooth buttercream icing, the magic sitting heavier in his gut than the last few treats did. Sans took his time to relish this and allow the heavenly flavor to fight his rising anxiety.

Once it was completely settled away into his happy, blubbery middle, he peeked an eyesocket open to see he had descended further. However, this time he was dangling just over a short crag in the hardened lava, with a large entryway carved out ahead of it. Huh, he didn’t know there was a cave network in Hotland, like there was in Snowdin. 

“Congratulations there~ It looks like you won our little game,” Muffet chirped as she descended to meet him, stepping off to stand by the wall. More spiders were dropping down with her. “The spiders are most pleased with your performance, and would like to ask for you to stay for Breakfast~” Sans exhaled in relief, wondering what he was ever worked up over to begin with.

“heh, well i am a pro at tickling _funny bones_.” He looked down at his stomach and puffed it out a bit, gauging how hungry he felt versus how full he was. Luckily it was an easy decision, and he grinned back at Muffet. “breakfast sounds great. thanks, muffet.”

“Oh, wonderful!” She flashed a toothy smile and drew out the smallest cow bell he’d ever seen, ringing it. Sans hung there. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a giant muffin monster emerging from the entryway.

 _Really_. He blinked hard to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating from a sugar high. Nope, that monster was real and it was massive, bigger than him even. Its black, beady eyes locked onto him, and the wicked, sharp toothed mouth cut into the muffin top gnashed as it skittered over on sharp legs. It stood uncomfortably close. Sans could smell their delicious blueberry baked body and hungered for it. ( _Gross, stop that, you can’t eat another Monster…_ ) 

“wow, uh, nice to meet you,” Sans smiled awkwardly, trying not to drool at the poor, delicious looking creature. This was way worse than Vegetoid, and he wasn’t even as hungry as before! “heh. so by any chance _would you know the muffin man_?”

“Ahuhu~ Sans, this is my pet, Breakfast.” He twisted his skull to look back up at her, staring incredulously.

“wait, when you said _stay for breakfast_ , you meant-”

“Of course, sweetheart~ Breakfast wants to play a game with you too,” She giggled, eyes flashing ominously. “Their favorite is called _eat or be eaten_. I think you’ll enjoy it~”

He didn’t have time to question what kind of game that entailed, because the muffin monster lurched at him, latching its crusty jaws on his lower half without warning. Sans yelped in surprise, eye turning blue as a measure of self defense, but Breakfast had the clear advantage thanks to the sticky, webbed restraint tying Sans up. It sucked him in with surprising force, gobbling him on the line like a fish eating bait, and slobbered some greasy substance over him. Startled, he struggled and tried to pull away while desperately firing bones, but the spider’s writhing throat threw off his aim as he tried to use them to obstruct his fall. Despite his attempts he flopped inside a larger membrane with a nauseating _splat,_ and laid there on his back.

  

From what he could currently tell, he was lodged somewhere sticky and covered in that greasy film from his fall. Sans screwed his eye-sockets shut and curled up, shaking as he tried to gather his bearings. He couldn’t get a good read on where he was spatially with the presence of another monster’s magic around him, so shortcuts were currently out of the question. 

Okay… Now what? He laid his hands on his stomach and concentrated on his own magic. It gently glowed blue, illuminating the gooey substance he was trapped in. Ah, so he could see the inside of this muffin monster- it looked like- a…fluffy… cake…?

( _What the hell is this?_ ) If this monster ate him, then shouldn’t he have reverted back to magic? Maybe he was dead and this was some kind of afterlife or heaven? ( _Sheesh, whoever set this gig up could have at least gotten me some fries, a burger and shake_. )

His panic was melted away into macabre indifference and he checked his cell phone’s signal. “nice, full connection.” Sans sat up, posing for a selfie inside Breakfast’s assumed stomach, figuring that ‘greetings from the dead’ would be a fun Christmas card if nothing else. Additionally, he shot off a text to Toriel, typing out deliberately and giggling to himself.

*** so this is what karma tastes like**

[ Sans sent the photo attachment. ]

*** knock knock**

He hung there waiting, slightly disappointed when she didn’t text back. Dang. That almost sucks as much as _getting eaten alive_. Which, of course, was turning out to be pretty boring. He surveyed the area, but there was nothing down here besides himself. Not even cool knick-knacks or junk.

“really? come on, i can’t be the _only_ garbage you’ve ever eaten,” He lamented out loud, swiping at the film and gooey membrane he was sitting in. He thought back to what Muffet said… ( _Eat or be eaten? If I’m already eaten, well, maybe I…?_ ) Sans hesitantly licked his phalanges, cringing with anticipated disgust, but was pleasantly surprised to taste - buttery… blueberry?

Okay, so he was inside of a giant muffin, but that also meant, _he was inside of a giant **tasty** muffin_. Sure, it was outrageous, morally questionable, and Sans had to seriously reconsider Muffet’s sanity if she had her pet eat him when he was _equally capable_ of eating it back… But it seemed like nothing was going to stop him from trying. ( _Oh to hell with it, this is really tasty._ ) He licked off more residue as he hesitated, then decided to reach over to a cakey wall and grab a fistful to shove in his mouth. It was warm, moist and delicious, and the butter soaked into it really enhanced the flavor of the blueberry. 

Sans moaned in delight and ate. First with his hands, then just face-first. The cake was so easy to scarf down; it didn’t even try to clump up in his mouth like other pastries tended to. He sensed no struggle or pain from Breakfast either, as he ate its innards - in fact, its magic seemed to be separating a little from his senses and he could pick up a short cut. Choosing not to bother with the fast way out, Sans kept eating his own escape.

He got to another baked-in blueberry much like the one he had fallen into and bit into its flesh. Dark juices squirted out and he slurped it up whole. He sucked it down with one massive heave despite it being even bigger than his skull, tummy tingling in delight. Sans paused afterwards to give it a happy rub, beginning to feel how engorged it was. It was glowing of its own accord now, peeking out underneath this bigger shirt at the bottom and swirling with magic. He huffed a breath to push it out and compare with yesterday’s size, and was satisfied to find it was getting close. ( _Excellent._ ) He shivered while imagining eating this entire muffin himself. Yes, he had to, he _absolutely_ had to.

“ _brruup!_ alright buddy, let’s see what we can do,” Sans grinned and dove back into the cake. He paced himself by scarfing down massive amounts in a hunger-crazed freefall before slowing down to graze, stroking and massaging his ever-inflating gut. Then, he’d pick up the pace again once it was soothed adequately. The muffin was always so light and fluffy, warm and buttery, moist and tasty… He didn’t tire of this at all. In fact, he was surprised by his capacity. ( _You’re an insatiable mess._ ) He shivered with pleasure, loving every bite.   

Though it seemed to go on, _and stuff in_ , for forever, eventually Sans had burrowed himself to the outside. The open air of Hotland filled him with disappointment. He chose not to free himself quite yet, scarfing down the browned crust, which was embedded sugar crystals and lightly glazed with sugar. He filled up on a couple more big blueberries and chomped down the muffin top, no longer _immersed in_ but _entranced by_ this feast. Next was cutting down the sides to bulk up on his own. He stopped alternating speed to just munch away steadily at the soft pastry. The muffin no longer enclosed him at all but he kept crouched down to devour it in wide bites.

Sans got to the base - the drier bottom - when he finally felt his belly pinch and cramp up, and it was _tight_. He must’ve been in too much of a binge-induced trance to notice how painful that blue magic membrane had become - it had long since rounded out in front of him and spilled over his failing shorts. His  tum gurgled and he groaned as he rode the waves of pleasure and pain, rolling over like a squash to clutch at it. “uhf,” He sighed a short breath, trying to find some air pockets to burp out in release, but his paunch was so big he could only spot a couple. Man, and he really wanted to finish off this muffin. Clutching a spot, he squeezed and belched between gasps for air, “ ** _BLRRRGHHP_!** hah, hff, **_uuurp_** …” 

“Ahuhu~ My goodness~” Her voice snapped him out of it, and his eyelights flashed in alert as he looked up nervously at the crowd of spiders watching him lay there like a stuffed turkey. Sans’ girth clenched and any lingering pleasure vanished. He began sweating bullets as he grinned weakly at their stares.

“h-heh, _uurrrp._ so uh… about _breakfast_ …”

“I think they’re pretty satisfied with your performance,” She purred and turned at the waist to lay a pair of hands on the top of a large, spidery creature’s abdomen. “Aren’t you now, dearie?” He stared incredulously at the beast, recognizing the jagged grin, black eyes, and crustacean like legs before he barked out a laugh.

“hah! heh heh, **_hic!_** o-oh wow. that’s a trip. _hffh_ , heh heh, you- you _totally_ got me there, urp… I th-thought…”

“That Breakfast was a muffin spider? Ahuhuhu, not at all, they’re a _hermit spider_ actually~ They fuse their magic with bigger, inanimate objects to find a temporary home.” Huh, he never heard of such a thing, but in hindsight, it all made sense now. Sans had to calm down. His whole midsection felt like it was on fire from the laughing. He rubbed at his cheekbones.

“heurgh, heh… that’s a riot… well i don’t blame them for choosing your baking as their home. i’d love to live in a muffin too, but i’m afraid i… heh, w-wouldn’t have a home for very long…”

“Not with that appetite~ Goodness, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone eat like that before, Sans. Coming from you though, I guess I can’t be too surprised,” She flashed a toothy grin, her many eyes narrowing. “You’ve always been such an adorable little glutton~”

“glad i could -huff- _rise_ to the occasion for you here.” Sans struggled but sat up wearily, listening to the spiders giggling and giving them a wink. “it was nice to _eat_ you there, breakfast.” Breakfast gurgled beside her, clanking its claws against the ground.

“They said it was nice to eat you too, and that you should do it again some time~” Doing that _again_? Damn, his tummy trembled as he became eager too quickly after stuffing himself silly, drool dripping from his mouth and down his jaw.

“heh heh heh- _hurf_ , yeah that sounds like a _sweet_ plan to me, heh heh…” He didn’t get why, but Muffet cringed slightly and curled her fingers and arms inward. She was still smiling, but he knew they hadn’t made any progress here. ( _Come on Muff, don’t make me have to confront you. I hate that shit._ ) Beside her, Breakfast clicked with glee and scurried off, following the other spiders. “oh uh, thanks for _having_ me too, heh. see ya.”

He took the cue to work his way up to his feet, which was a lot more challenging than it should be, considering the swollen balloon belly. That, and there was nothing else nearby to grab hold of and steady himself. Struggling, he managed to push himself upright and belched again. _Phew_ , he felt wasted. He needed to shake this before heading back, maybe he could take a teeny nap…

Muffet lingered, watching him, on edge. Sans sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, dreading what he was about to say next.

“that was fun. do i… _owe_ you for anything? if not, i should probably head out, i got a meeting to…”

She gave a saccharine smile, lacing all six hands together. “Why, yes, I’m afraid there is a debt you owe me now that my friends have been taken care of…” He lowered his skull and closed his eyesockets, preparing himself for a nasty bill.

“alright, muffet. lay it on me.” He was hit with another sticky expulsion rather than a price and staggered back into a big purple web as his arms were bound to his sides again. ( _Damn!_ ) He cringed and squirmed, testing his restraints a bit as Muffet approached. Her hands were wringing instead of simply laced together, and her expression had shifted to something much more intimidating. “hey uh, i have the gold? we don’t have to do this-”

“ _I don’t want your money_ ,” She purred dangerously, face pressed close to his. Sans stiffened in shock, jaw locking up. Four of her hands wrapped around his stomach to hold it at rest for now. “You skipped our grand reunion and new store opening to be _a greedy little gourmand_ somewhere else.”

Sans wrenched his jaw open to explain but Muffet began tenderly stroking his tense tummy with two hands and kneading expertly with the other pair. The soft and lovely release shut him down instantly and he only groaned instead. “I bet you haven’t _stopped_ _eating_ for a moment since I saw you days ago, ahuhuhu~ What you’re doing to yourself is kind of disgusting.”

“muffet,” He tried once more to beg in a short breath but she took hold of his mandible with her free hands, sliding something into his mouth. It was a chewy chocolate chip cookie, the underside browned, crisp and still greasy. Sans chewed of his own accord, closing his eyesockets to relish the sweet flavor dissolving against his molars. “ _mmmm_ …”

“See? After all of that, and you’re _still_ hungry. Roping your darling little brother into some lie about a diet… _did you really think I was going to believe that?_ ”

“i didn-” Another chocolate chip cookie was stuffed into his mouth, melting against his tongue. He rolled his eyelights into the back of his skull as he ate, shivering helplessly. Her hands were so soft compared to his boney phalanges, yet considerably strong, sinking into his bulbous potbelly and rubbing in clockwise and counterclockwise circles. Sans was so immersed he could barely hear her, instead feeling her visceral anger in the tips of her fingers. Her magic was far more expressive than she allowed herself to be in the dust.

“So let’s see, what’s next on the list of grievances? Besides making a gross display of yourself and lying to me… oh yes, _silly me_. Those discounts you’re always begging for~” Sans simply gave up resisting, so Muffet took it upon herself to hold his mouth open and feed him another cookie. “Even though the money goes to my adorable, precious little spiders and spiderlets, you still had the gall to ask for price cuts so you can stuff more into that greedy face.” She must have taken notice to his slower chewing and tugged his mouth open prematurely to deposit another sweet treat. He groaned through the mouthful, stomach tightening even further under her hand to the point of agony. Sans felt he could explode if this continued, so he tried to turn his skull away when she readied the next cookie. It wasn’t a successful move, and the painfully decadent snack was shoved in unceremoniously. He couldn’t hazard spitting it out, and the sweet chocolate was still able to drown his tastes and tongue in the rich, lightly oiled, baked goodness.   

“But, probably the worst aggression of all was that I made a nice little feast for you, expecting you to come, but then you showed me up in front of them. On our special day no less. Did you _even think_ how embarrassing that might be? Maybe not, you’re kind of  shameless, ahuhuhu…” Her eyes and movements matched the incoming storm he felt creeping up in her magic, which manifested as a harsh squeeze ‘round his big belly with all four free arms as she shoved two more cookies in just behind the last. Pain shot through him, his bloated magic slipping away in self release to drive two large femurs up out of the wall behind him. They halted inches away from her and she startled, receding back. “Now you’re attacking me?”

“nngh-shhr– s-shtop,” Sans panted and begged through his mouthful, forcefully rolling the magical excess over his tongue before it slid down to his gut. “‘m sorry. hhhugh, please stop, i’m- _so full_ …”

“You’re not full,” Muffet scoffed. “You were drooling over Breakfast just a minute ago.” He groaned at the magic coursing through him like an angry hive and tried to shake his head. Honestly, he might’ve been able to take a little more if it weren’t for his stomach feeling  disturbed by the abundance of attention… The best answer he could muster was to weakly spit up a little of the indigestion on the ground, more of a sloppy collection of frothy drool than it was magical discharge.

“ _euuugh_ … m-maybe… but i- i feel- _urrp_ … _so_ bloated…” She watched him with a measured look before stepping back over to him, hands returning to his bright blue belly. He shivered, anticipating the worst. “please…”

“I shouldn’t have to forgive you for this. Do you know that, Sans?” This time, Muffet was being consistently gentle with her rubs and strokes, the motions doing wonders at soothing his upset stomach. Sans sighed and bobbed his skull along in agreement.

“uh… uh-huh…” The tension slipped out of the webbing and strings tying him up, and she eased him down to rest on the stone ground. He accepted it gratefully and slid his own hands up to gingerly feel around himself, searching for comfort.

“Mmmh, well, I suppose you’ll just have to feel lucky you’re so cute when you snack away, ahuhuhu~ I’ll forgive you _this time,_ ” Muffet purred while tenderly kneading his gut, sat beside him. “As long as you never stand me up in front of my spiders again, Sans.”

“mmmh… o…ok…” He squirmed into a slightly more comfortable position, dropping his arms to the side to allow her full exposure of his taut tum. This was better, he felt more relaxed.

“Oh, and don’t ask me for any discounts ever again.”

“alright…”

“Good, I’m glad you see it my way, you sweet little pastry muncher~”

“i think… pastry _hound_ is more a-appropriate,” Sans hiccuped out, grinning to himself. “i like to really… _woof_ it down… heh… _ugh_.” 

She giggled along and slowed her strokes as he nodded off peacefully, adding quietly, “I’ll leave this on your tab for next time, then.”


	9. Wrangling the Goat Rodeo, cheesy penne bake & cafe lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (( Thanks for your patience everyone!! It’s finally time for political vendettas and lunch with a Goat Mom! There aren’t many warnings this chapter besides Sans getting squeezed in a tight space and nausea / brief mention of bile.
> 
> Somebody’s gonna get dunked on.
> 
> You can find the compilation of Sans’ Sin Quest chapters linked in the sidebar of this blog under “Masterpost”! Also, our ko-fi donation widget is there too, just in case you want to feed an irl skele with your love & money. ♥
> 
> Other’s work mention- Cinnamon Cafe and the owner, Cinnabunny, is by @here-comes-the-sinmobile , Lalka is an OC of @Undxrtummies, and Maybelle, who was mentioned, is an OC of @sanscutetum ! Montana is actually the author’s OC. ))

 

Sans woke up extremely late. He realized it as he stirred groggily, awoken by a text vibrating against his swollen, engorged tum. Great, now he was late for that damn rep meeting he hated anyway.

That meant he was letting Toriel down, even after all that faith she put in him yesterday. 

( _Fuck…_ )

He tried to lunge into action, and it was a good illustration of why he should look before leaping… Or simply never move of his own accord, ever. Either way, Sans had been nestled into some cocoon-hammock in the air, so the sticky spider webbing caught on his backside and bones, and he’d flipped over to stare at the ground. His belly pulled downward, an entity in its own right, earning a pained, wincing yelp, and unsettling the magic inside him like shaken soda. Sans panted for cool air to calm his thrumming body down. The precarious dangling and staring into the dark depths leading to the molten magma below Hotland was _not_ helping.

“ _hhhrgh_ …” Squirming did his bloated stomach no good either, so he gave up and squeezed his eyesockets shut to block out the height he was hanging from. His bones continued tingling, anxious energy prickling his spine. “m-muffeeet- _**hic!**_ p-please throw me bone here… muffet…?” Sans flinched again when he dropped suddenly thanks to the weakened webbing, his fear forcing his eyesockets open as the heat of his magic flashed through him. It took no concentration to summon a sturdy femur from the ground far below, extending upward like a stalagmite. That was all instinct, burning in his left eye.  

Sans honestly had _no_ idea where such an urge for self preservation came from in times like this, but… ( _Wait, did I just make a bone several hundred feet long?_ ) He stared, impressed by the distance he’d summoned it from, before swinging himself to grab hold of it. 

He breathed a sigh of relief once he’d secured his phalanges around the femur. He was still stuck, but at least he could be sure he wouldn’t fall. Damn, he needed another nap after all of that needless drama. The rep meeting was far from his mind while he was stuck in this position, and Sans almost dozed off before the sticky webbing around him began to lower him back to Hotland with the support of his ‘bone-beam’.

“Ahuhu! Are you trying to get away there, deary? My web is _much_ stronger than it looks.” He blinked wearily and looked up, seeing Muffet daintily gliding down on a twirling umbrella woven from webbing.

“whelp, you caught me,” Sans said weakly, and leaned into the ground as he was set down gently. The webbing was receding, but boy did he ever feel like being immobile now.

“I certainly have,” Muffet giggled as she finished freeing him. She turned him over with a heave so she could see his front and beamed down at him merrily. “So, where were you trying to go off to in a such a hurry~? Off to the farm to join the other stuffed turkeys?” She laughed to herself and tenderly rubbed his swollen gut. The light pressure and motion of her magical hands made him shudder in pleasure. It was…Surprising, how wonderful the touch felt? His soft, plush tum wobbled as the magical contents inside swirled under her touch. Quite the seamstress Muffet was, if she was even able to weave a comfort blanket out of his taut, rubbery magic sack.

“hhhhhrrrr,” He inhaled as deeply as he could. Trying to re-energize himself instead of slipping back into a comfortable post-binge haze was so challenging with her massaging him like that. “hhheh, i couldn’t- _hic_ \- _gobble_ another bite if i tried… you did quite a number on me there…”

“Don’t act like that, _you_ do this to _yourself_ ,” She cackled and gave a little pinch at the fleshy underside of his belly. The minor pressure from that alone made him groan and squirm, shooing off her hands. “Ahuhuhu! See, you’re not going anywhere like that. Why not stay until I can get Lunch ready? We could have _more fun_ …”

“URRrppp… i can’t _stomach_ letting your delicious food go to _waist_ again…” Sans giggled at the end, laughing at his own jokes before groaning at the tight, heavy bulge still pressing down on him. He was so full, he felt _sick_ at the idea of more food. It brought the memory of his nasty magic backwash coming up. It was burning, vile tasting stuff - and left a gross sensation. Quite a foreign feeling. “eugh… i kinda…. don’t feel good… i guess that’s my ‘just desserts’ huh? ooogh…”

“I’m sorry,” Muffet murmured a little quieter, folding her multiple arms into her lap. The sentiment surprised Sans and he peered at her over his swollen midsection.

“naw, don’t fret it… like y’ said, i did it to myself… just like i made myself late for work now…”

“You’re so irresponsible.” She cheered up as she chided him, offering more gentle belly rubs. “It’s a wonder I don’t punish you _every_ day~ Ahuhuhu…” He calmed down significantly, closing his eyesockets to relish her caressing. She was careful not to strain his outer layer of blue magic, and her warm, soft hands glided over him, nudging his shirt up further to lightly pinch and knead his paunch like hot dough. ( _How can something so simple feel so divine? I don’t even feel sick when she does that…_ ) Sans’ breathing slowed, and Muffet drifted in and out of his focus as she massaged this manifestation of himself.

“nnnh… i gotta… go… i can’t let her down,” Sans mumbled to himself, struggling to find his resolve while so immersed in sensory bliss. Muffet’s thin, spindly fingers slowed and traced along the surface.

“Hm~? Well, you should get up then. It’s bad to be late for work, but it’s _worse_ to disappoint a lady, ahuhu~ _Isn’t that right, Sans_?” She flashed her fangs and slowly began to increase the pressure under her fingertips.

“i’m gooooin’, i’m go- _hic_ …!” He wrenched himself away, scraping his heels on the ground as he pushed himself away and upright. Sans’ stomach groaned in protest, spilling over his pelvis once more, and he shoved his hands into his coat pockets to camouflage his thicker sides. “uffhh, heh… alright, i’m out. thanks for the grub.” 

He flickered out of Hotland.

 

* * *

 

Sans had refused to take a title at rep meetings. This point had annoyed some particularly stringent monsters who insisted that he needed one and that it was an accountability issue; his counter-argument that titles were only an assertion of power and that the original intent of this committee was to allow for fluid communication with the community didn’t go over so well. In hindsight, just accepting being Toriel’s advisor or the skeleton representation would have been way easier and provided fewer headaches… But Sans was still pleased to have won. He might be one of the youngest monsters in the room, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant to their history or governmental organization. 

It was an adaptation of an ancient adhocracy monsterkind lived with upon the surface, though that had changed with the desire to organize better against the humans’ declaration of war and the recognition of Boss monsters’ power. Monsterkind broke into groups, each ruled by a Boss Monster King or Queen, and followed their declaration be it to attack or defend. 

They didn’t yield _all_ of their rights to Asgore’s rule - representatives were chosen by each specie of monster to advocate for the concerns of their community to the royalty and their fellow monsters. Sans just didn’t want the pressure of speaking on behalf of anyone, even if the few skeletons around didn’t have a representative and even if Toriel wanted his counsel. Tori was his friend, as were many other monsters (especially out in Snowdin), and at the very least all monsters were worth looking out for.

_Except spudniks._

Oh no, Sans was certain there was nothing redeemable or pleasant about spudniks. The ugly, lumpy, and incessantly annoying buggers were always in everyone’s business and possessed not a gracious, humble, or respectful sprout in their entire body. Actual potatoes were _much_ better company. It wasn’t like Sans came to this opinion for no reason; he had spent plenty of time avoiding Jerry and wishfully hoping the kid was having a long ‘scene’ phase they’d grow out of eventually.

And then he met Jerry’s infuriating father, Tom, and that sealed the deal.

 

When Sans arrived several minutes late into the meeting to find his personal chair had been swapped with Tom’s, he didn’t know whether he should relocate the spudnik into Burgerpants’ fryer or quit on the spot and go drown himself in ketchup. Neither occurred and the group had quieted down from a hair-raising debate to watch his unannounced arrival, so he put on a tight grin, waved with feigned nonchalance, and strolled over to the seat beside the queen.

“sorry i’m late, i took the bus and the driver thought _no body_ was on board.” A few of the monsters he liked, namely Toriel, stifled their amusement behind restrained smiles, and he gave her a wink before looking down at this foreign chair inviting him.

Tom, like most spudniks, had a unique body shape- pencil thin arms and legs, a little lumpy torso, and a thick fleshy neck supporting his even larger, bulbous head. He vaguely resembled a figure eight turned upside down, if a figure eight turned upside down would dress in a bright orange ‘sleazy lawyer’ suit obnoxiously trimmed with diamonds. His personal chair was equally pragmatic - rivet-like diamond studs extended the length of the arm rests, and thin, rail-like black legs held it upright. The headrest flared out like the petals of a daffodil, and the burgundy crushed velvet upholstery, made from Whimsun silk, completed its overwrought appearance. Sans could have appreciated how inappropriate the gag was to swap seats, or even how completely misplaced this horrific looking chair was in a fairly informal plenary session, but this was _Tom’s_ work, and thus it was deemed humorless.

Squeezing his thick middle between the arm rests was also not funny. Sans fought hard not to openly grimace as he wedged himself into a chair that barely had enough room to accommodate his pelvis, let alone the rest of him. Puffing, he squirmed down, then tugged out the hem of his jacket to drape it over the arm rests, allowing him a little more space. 

This was a horrible mistake. Why did he even bother trying to play this switcheroo off? His stomach was protesting this decision as it creaked and groaned, his ridiculously large breakfast threatening to make a return. Welp, there was no going back now, unfortunately - Sans was in too deep. A hiccuped breath slid him down a touch further still. He huffed and gripped the arm rests, squeezing himself in.

Well, he got far enough in to _pretend_ he was sitting at the table with them, anyway, but really he was wedged in tight with his coccyx hovering _over_ the velvet seat. The armrests dug in painfully whether he breathed deeply or not, and the magic in his swollen gut strained under pressure, trying to reintegrate into his bones. He felt dizzy and blinked at the blurring lights.

“s-so uh,” Sans huffed a short breath - as that was all he could manage - and closed his eyesockets in a forced smile. He folded his phalanges together and lightly rested them on the upward curve of his stomach, doing his best to play it cool. “where were we…?”

“Thank you for coming by, Sans,” Toriel said in a stately tone. He felt one of her feet reach under the table to softly brush against his talus in a hidden, comforting gesture. “We were just discussing the anti-human sentiment cropping up within the city. I believe Liptrès was making their case.”

Sans squinted his eyesockets through the suffocating pinch to stare hard at the ypotryll chimera representative across the table, brandishing a wary blank expression. He knew that big bar on the end of Road Street was going to make a fuss; they had a couple nasty words for him when asked to remove the flag, so _naturally_ they clued in their rep-

“YOU knOw, Uh, it’s Okay,” they stooped in their seat which pushed their camel humps up higher up their back. They seemed quite preoccupied with avoiding all contact with Sans. “We’ll try tO keep the rhetOric tOned dOwn.” 

Toriel sat staring at them, pen in hand, mouth drawn. “Oh? Are you sure? I mean, you were _just_ making an pretty explicit argument about how the humans-”

“Oh, what is the term, let bygOnes be bygOnes,” They shrugged sheepishly. “Let’s jUst mOve On with the meeting…” Typical chimeras. Granted, they were really powerful monsters, but many suffered from pussyfoot syndrome. Especially Liptrès, but after the _last_ time Sans verbally skewered them, who could blame them? Sans chalked this debate up as one more victory for his classic skeleton poker face-

“Wow, really? You’re gonna buckle just because _he_ showed up? SIGH, that’s, like, so lame, Liptrès…” Tom whined, and slurped on his iced skinny hazelnut macchiato with an extra pump, light ice, extra whip, and two percent foam. “What a tool…”

Sans grinned wider as he experienced a moment of total clarity. _Today he was going to make sure Tom had a bad time._

“oh, tommy boy, i don’t suppose _you’re_ the mastermind behind those anti-human posters and flags, huh? when you’re the head of a popular magazine like _mon-star_ , i’m sure injecting personal persuasion is all in a days work.”

“Well, uh, duh? My opinion is _sooo_ important.” Tom met Sans’ unblinking stare for a minute before sticking his finger into his coffee to swirl it. “Censorship is bad for the sense of community too. Monsters read what they like and they _don’t_ like humans anymore. You can’t police fads.”

“There will be no policing of the sort,” Toriel clarified, as a couple of other monsters growled at the thought. “I believe if we discourage violent imagery of humans and human souls in public spaces, monsters have greater opportunity to form their own opinions.”

“ _Rrrrungg_ ,” Greater Dog chimed in with a warbling growl, commenting that the dogs happen to prefer the excitement of policing if possible. Sans didn’t think Toriel understood what he said, which was just as well if they were going to keep the debate on track.

“Just the same, censorship based on moral values is imposing the Queen’s political views, and if we accept this crack in the right of free speech, who’s to say she won’t expand on it? Like, really… Next she’ll be restricting my right to report on the royal declarations, and _then_ it’ll be restricting us from writing anything considered indecent by _her_ standards,” Tom argued.

“wow, you’re doing _a lot_ of projecting there, buddy. have you met our queen?” Sans jabbed a distal phalange at her beside him. “shoot, it’s like you don’t even _acknowledge_ the fact she has you and all of your outlets beat in speaking out against royal declarations. she nearly followed through with total martyrdom, if ol’ king fluffybuns hadn’t been hoisted on his own petard.”

“Her record isn’t in question, but rather her _biased motive_. Social mores, like, change all the time, and they’re changing right now to resent-”

“hate to break it to you,” Sans forced himself to raise his voice momentarily, before resuming his normal volume and sighing. There was too much pressure on his gut for him to get more emotionally involved than this. “but _all_ of the fallen humans have been children. by your own ‘slippery slope’ argument, clamoring against censorship would enable monsters to post violent imagery of _any_ species of child, not _just_ humans.“

He hooked them good now. The other representatives paled a shade and began to fidget, extrapolating his proposed reality ahead of his words. Sans continued relentlessly, driving the point home. “after all, though all monsters find it in themselves to tolerate one another, opinions can still be contentious. be it rabbits, dogs, or cats, some groups of monsters don’t like other groups of monsters. nobody is denying them _that_ right. but if we start normalizing violent imagery and hateful rhetoric towards human children in public places, how are you going to say violent pictures of _your own son_ jerry getting mashed potato’d should be taken down?”

“I,” The spudnik floundered for words, rather unusual for someone so obnoxiously mouthy. He was obviously disturbed by the thought - at least he had _that_ much courtesy to care. “You’re… You’re taking this example too far! N-Nobody w-would do such a thing…!”

“but i’m really not. the queen had a human child of her own, and _you’re_ arguing for your right to disseminate broken and bloody imagery of them. it doesn’t matter _how_ you label it, it’s cruel.”

“Humans and monsters aren’t the same!”

“wow, _rude_. both have sentience. now you’re just muddying the issue with semantics.”

“ _You’re_ avoiding confronting the dire consequences of censorship and suggesting extreme scenarios to scare myself and my colleagues into accepting this rubbish! On _behalf_ of the Queen, no less!”

“’dire consequences’? sheesh, you act like a mutual consensus not to put up hurtful imagery could be the end of Monster civilization as we know it.” This was it, the finale. Sans didn’t expect to be dunking Tom so soon in the meeting, but this was getting too good to pass up. As their back and forth went on, he lined up a small row of blue bones beneath his chair, the very one stolen by Tom. 

“No, but like, being caged in this infernal space as we are, having our right to express ourselves as we wish is the most sacred thing we have left!”

“you sound like an extremist, tom. i think you should calm down there.”

“Yeah, tater tot,” Lalka, the purple goo monster representing many aquatic species, interjected. “You look like you’re gonna pop a sprout.”

“This is an outrage,” Tom slammed his hands on the table and stood up, triggering Sans’ trap. He tripped on the blue bones laying in wait, taking a spill, and grappling for the chair just as Sans pushed it back with a nudge of magic. Tom faceplanted and laid there, writhing in hatred. 

The entire room seemed rather stunned by the fall of the publishing head at first. Until Lalka burst out laughing and enabled Sans to join in with her.

“Hahahaha!! Oh wow,” She clasped a hand to her head, and the two parts began to melt together in her glee.

“ha ha ha…!” Sans gasped a little between laughs, sides doubly sore, doubly quick. He felt sick again in no time but couldn’t help himself, winking at Toriel beside him as she struggled to exude professional reservation and concern for the obnoxious monster. “s-so much for th-that _half baked_ argument…!”

He broke her that instant. Toriel choked on her deep breath and threw both hands up to her muzzle, muffling out her guffaws and snickers. Sans laughed even harder, slouching back slightly as he threw his skull back. Pain and pleasure were intertwined perfectly but he was powerless to stop it now.

The monsters siting beside Tom helped the big ol’ potato head back up on his feet, and boy was that the reddest spudnik he’d ever seen. Sans fought tears.

“y-y-you okay there, _sp’ud_ dy? did you t-trip up on your a _-peel_?” Other monsters were beginning to chime in, yacking and howling at the scene. Tom angrily snatched up his whatever-venti macchiato and stomped off from the table.

“You all suck! I’m not gonna stand around here and be insulted like this…! UGH, bunch of ungrateful freaks!!” A shy Vegetoid mother tried to intercept and offer him a sympathetic leaf, but he shoved her aside. “Get out of my way!”

And off he went. Sans secretly hoped Tom never came back to the rep meetings ever again. He pushed up his belly to try to leave his tiny torture device, burping quietly and squeezing his sides against the now doubly-crushed velvet, but he was too stuck to escape Tom’s chair. Granted, he could probably blaster the wretched thing to oblivion, but not here, and certainly not now. Order overcame the room in short time as Toriel asked if her proposition had their approval. It reached 100% majority rule.

Exhausted on all fronts, the stuffed skeleton nodded off into a nap when Lalka started asking for solutions to the dwindling water supply in Waterfall…

 

* * *

 

He honestly didn’t _mean_ to sleep through most of the meeting, but he did. It must have gone smoothly without him, as any heavy or loud debate would have disturbed his nap. 

It was fine to sleep through it, he did his part. Besides, Sans took notice of how certain troublesome reps behaved when he was there versus when he wasn’t, and how they _coincidentally_ found it in themselves to be cordial with the queen when they knew he _was_ around to give them hell. Granted, they had every right to be upset about Asgore’s death, and dislike Toriel’s request to accept life underground… But being rude because they weren’t in the majority that accepted Toriel’s rule? Sans didn’t take too kindly to that behavior.  

“Good morning, sleepy skull. I suppose you really can sleep anywhere, hm?” 

“mmh,” He grumbled and yawned, trying to stretch his bones and pop them back into place, but he was too trapped. Oh, yeah. “ _huff_ , ‘spose yer right there, tor. but i’ve managed with worse.”

“Color me curious.”

“back when alphys hung out more with bratty and catty, i once passed out in catty’s litterbox. heh.” Toriel stiffed a laugh.

“Oh goodness, Sans…”

“don’t worry, i skillfully avoided any catty patties,” Sans shrugged and grappled for hold on the chair to push himself out again. Nope, he was still totally stuck. At least that bastard Tom wasn’t around to gloat about it.

“Do you need help?” He looked up at Toriel’s leaning in with a concerned frown, watching his grunting and shifting. Sans flushed as his magic rushed into his skull, feeling a bit bashful abut the situation his gluttonous appetite got him into.

“i’m uh… y-yeah, i’m kinda… stuck…” Her white paws slid under him, pushing and twisting him out simultaneously like she was opening a tight jar. His flab even made a suction-y “plop” sound as Sans was freed, magnifying his embarassment. “w-wow you’re strong,” Sans said admiringly as she lifted him from the chair with grace and ease. He tugged his clothing back into place, trying to cover up his girth.

“You’re not too heavy for me. Do not sweat so much over it, alright?” Toriel smiled and swooped him to the side to carefully test placing him upon his own feet. Sans stepped away from her arms with a sincere grin, exhaling deeply and tingling with giddiness.

“heh heh… thanks.”

“I should thank you. You came by just in time to expertly shut down that cringeworthy debate for me.”

“nah, don’t thank me. wrangling an occasional _goat rodeo_ is all i’m good for anyway,” He chided then waited a breath for her giggling to pass. 

“Hehehehe! That isn’t true, Sans!”

“yeah well. i’m sorry for being late at any rate- if i had shown up on time, it might not have even started.”

“I _was_ worried about you. Can you please clarify this? I think I missed your joke.” Toriel fished out her phone and showed Sans his last text- 

*** so this is what karma tastes like**

[ Sans sent a selfie photo from inside Breakfast’s muffiny ‘stomach’. The lighting was pretty bad since it had only come from his glowing ectotum below. ]

“hahaha! aw geez,” Sans chuckled to himself, considering where to even begin. “well, _that’s_ a story and a half.”

“I see. I hope you don’t mind sharing it. We could… Go by that Cinnamon Cafe for tea and lunch, and review the meeting notes as well.” When he didn’t immediately react to the idea, she hastily added, “Unless, that is, you want something _more_ substantial. I understand.”

“wh-what? nah, that sounds perfect,” He stuffed both hands into his pocket, rocking back onto his heels and rebalancing his middle. “i gotta grab something, so i’ll meet up with you there.”

 

* * *

 

There was a difference between being hungry and being able to eat. Sans had more than his share of a filling meal a couple hours ago, and it was enough to keep his ebullient belly from getting vocal - but could he eat more?

Well, he was going to _have_ to, right? If he was going to get anywhere with this business of amplifying his power to break the barrier, Sans needed to _keep eating_. It felt kind of thrilling to have a goal that meant filling his face with delicious food more often. 

He went home and opened the fridge to find Papyrus’ loving lunch wrapped up for him in a container with “SANS” written in ketchup across it. The older brother chuckled to himself, endeared, as he waited for it to warm up in the microwave. It smelled nice and spicy when he opened the door; it was definitely several leagues above Papyrus’ old cooking habits. A couple years ago, Papyrus wouldn’t have touched other forms of pasta, or tried skillet cooking like this (partly for the safety of the house). Sans marvelled at how far his brother had come. He had this golden, bubbling dish in front of him, and it was _likely_ to taste as wonderful as it looked. 

Sans wasn’t really hungry though, and he felt a little uncertain sitting here with it. Rushing to scarf it down would be a total shame, and so would leaving Tori to sit alone, waiting for him to finish enjoying the fruits of her tutoring. Maybe… he could bring it with him? That didn’t seem very classy, but it was worth a shot, and definitely the best option compared to the other two.

Sans shrugged and teleported back into the city with his covered dish, strolled down to the street corner, and sat at a cute round table in front of the building, glancing inside. The Cinnamon Cafe had a relaxing atmosphere - decking, tall windows, nice, earthy themed furniture with a distinct spiral in the tabletops, and warm, low lighting illuminating their variety of coffee brews and baked goods. He was pleased to see Toriel wasn’t here yet, and discreetly uncovered his lunch. Maybe he could finish it before she turned up after all. 

He settled down and dug in. The first forkful was bursting with spicy flavor, the baked cheese on top hiding away sliced onions caramelised in oil, tangy, fire-roasted tomato and a touch of garlic. All of it worked well with the soft, chewy penne and jalapeño spiced water sausages. The creaminess of the sauce and cheese took some of the edge off the spices, so they wouldn’t burn if held on his tongue for too long. Sans ate it in big, eager mouthfuls.

He leaned back into the white mesh chair, groaning in pleasure through his stuffed mandible. The flood of sensation from the food was overpowering, and the magic it dissolved into slid down into his puffy belly, which glowed warmly in response. Sans might not have started eating with a big appetite, but pleasure overtook him after the first large bite and all he could focus on was gobbling up more. 

Gosh, the pepper cooked into that chewy sausage was such a great little variation on the usual meaty water sausage! He chewed deliberately, ecstatic from the flavors and textures in his mouth, until it was gone again, quicker this time. How good to see his body was ready for more magic so soon! 

He gurgled out a burp that tried to interfere with his next mouthful, and lapped up escaping, stretchy cheese with a slurp of his tongue. Papyrus’ savory pasta was really hitting the spot. Sans scarfed down another bite. He pulled the bowl closer and widened his stance underneath the small table to allow his belly more room, barely pausing for deep breaths of cool air before plunging more in. 

As warm and comforting as his tum’s magical ‘flesh’ felt under his free hand, Sans encountered difficulty churning the rest into magic. Usually the full, stuffy pain preceded it… But this time, it was getting harder to swallow. ( _You’re not full. Go on, just… go down already.._. ) Sans began to sweat as he tried to chew the gooey mixture. Finally it went down, leaving just a third of his lunch remaining. 

He was sitting in a intense debate with himself as to how to proceed when another lady’s voice startled him back to reality. “Sir? Can I interest you in a drink?”

Sans sat upright, stiff as a board and drenched in sweat. “u-uh? hhheheh, sorry, i…?”

The lop-eared jackalope waitress smiled naturally, unbothered by his focussed eating, and laid a menu down beside his dish. She was tall and trim, with horns much smoother than Gyftrot, and the name on her uniform simply read ‘Montana’. “Well, the tables are for patrons of the Cinnamon Cafe, sir.”

“yeah, i was- no, i _am_ going to order something, but i’m still waiting for my party.”

“Oh! Of course, not a problem. How many are you expecting?” He told her it was just Tori and she set down another menu in front of the chair opposite him. “Excellent! I’ll be back in a few to check on you, then.” She hopped away back into the shop. Sans’ eyelights followed her through the window and he spied a much shorter, stouter bunny with thick bangs looking his way through the bangs covering her eyes. She turned away quickly when he spotted her, flustered, and focused on Montana passing by the counter.

( _Aw sheesh, were they watching me…?_ )

“Oh, I see you got started without me.” Sans turned from the cafe to Toriel, coming up to sit in the seat across from him. With her arrival the last, prickling vestiges of anxiety slipped away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was that long of a walk from the castle.”

“not at all,” He exhaled and held up the rest of his dish. “you see this quality lunch? you’re really making a _bone_ -a fide chef out of my brother.”

She chuckled, folding over the menu at her seat. “Haha, ahh but he’s a very good pupil. No _bones_ about it.” He laughed along, looking over the menu while shuffling his fork around in the dish, prodding at penne and sausage. 

( _Mmm, I wonder if the cinnamon bunnies are the same recipe as the ones in Snowdin… it’s a bit odd to see rabbits in the city._ ) Well, the better question was, what would he order if he was already having a bit of trouble finishing off this delightful lunch? Coffee…?

“Hello~,” Montana chirped on her return, beaming at the two of them. “Welcome to Cinnamon Cafe! If you want, I can take your order out here.”

“Oh! Why, thank you. I think I would like a cup of cinnamon spice tea with the turkey and brie baguette.” Toriel passed her menu and the two set their sights on Sans expectantly. He shuffled lower in his seat, suddenly missing the familiarity of a homey place like Grillby’s.

“yeah, i’ll have a cup of cinnamon spice tea as well… and uh, a bacon mini ciabatta.” That looked small enough, right? He could just take it home if he couldn’t finish it, anyway.

“Great, then I’ll be right back with your drinks.” The two watched her return to the shop, dodging tables. Sans specifically eyed the bunnies inside, chattering and stealing glances his way. Okay, _now_ he was sure they were watching him.

“This place seems nice, but I didn’t realize they served their patrons at their tables,” Toriel hummed, following his lead to look through the windows.

“i don’t think this is normal,” He admitted, then stretched his bones out a bit, popping his scapula and humerus in place. At least the attention seemed to be _good_ attention, right? “nothing about today has been normal though, so why not? heh.”

“Speaking of unusual, that photo…” Sans recalled the morning’s adventure; word games, cupcakes, and getting eaten alive by a parasitic-host spider operating a giant muffin like a marionette. He chuckled and ran through the events with her, and even with him withholding stuff like dangling from dangerous heights, Toriel was still characteristically alarmed for him. She paused to accept her drink from Montana with little fanfare. “Are you sure you’re okay, Sans?”

“sure, why wouldn’t i be?” He took his cup of tea with both hands, warming his phalanges.

“Because…” A pensive look crossed her face before her queenly instinct took back over. She had a poker face that could take on the likes of Greater Dog. “Well, my friend, it’s _not_ just the oddity of getting eaten alive. I’ve noticed you do not come to me with any problems… I’m not sure it has more to do with a lack of trust in me or that you just don’t know how to talk about them.” Aw geez. Leave it to Tori to be super observant. He shrank his seat, fixing his eyelights on his porcelain cup.

“h-heh heh… how many problems do you think a lazy bag of bones like me can even have, tor?”

“Everyone has their problems,” She began, then paused, studying his uncomfortable shifts. Toriel cracked the harder veneer of her demeanor with a smile, continuing on to say, “for all I know, you could have a skele _ton_ of them.”

He chuckled, appreciating the fact she was willing to lighten up. “ha ha, sorry, i don’t mean to be so _distal_ with you. everythin’ _s-pine_.” Sans sucked down the hot, fragrant drink, closing his eyesockets as the soothing magic bled into him and provided relief to the lingering ache left from Tom’s torturous chair. He laid the cup back down to rub at his sides. “on that note, am i allowed to give tom’s chair a dip in a lava bath? please?”

“I don’t think that would be wise, Sans. I’m sorry I did not intercept him, Felix was talking to me before the meeting started.”

“don’t apologize for that creep. you’re not his keeper.”

“Did it hurt?”

“yeah, like getting caught in a vice,” Sans shrugged with feigned indifference and finished off his tea. “but it’s over now. i’m a little sore but it’s no big deal. i’ll know better than to try _that_ ever again.” Toriel sighed, watching him for a moment before getting up and scooting her chair over to sit beside him instead of across.

“I know healing magic,” She answered his unspoken confusion. “Allow me to try to make it better.”

“ah- tor, you don’t gotta…!” Her large, soft paws slid under his jacket, curving to the contour of his billowed sides. Sans’ breath caught in his ribcage and his skull burned hot, his magic flashing through him suddenly like a spark igniting flames. His metatarsals curled in his slippers and he gripped the wire frame of his seat, literally holding on as he tried to keep his magic from escaping, but it was as hard as running with an overflowing pot of water. And for Sans, running was hard enough as it was.

But from the gentle pressure of her paws flowed a cool heat, a green glow radiating from the tips of her fingers. Despite not having anything _to_ heal, the wave spread into his overindulged magical sack and calmed him. It felt like… Like glowing sunlight and a breeze through his ribcage. The vibration of Papyrus’ bones when he laughed. The first bite of Grillby’s sleazy, ketchup-soaked burg, and the little rumble in Toriel’s voice the moment before she laid on a killer joke. It even drew up sensations that Sans no longer had real memories affixed to - wonderful sensations from other timelines, fractured, scattered moments lost in space and time. 

He stared at her, mesmerized. 

( _So that’s what green magic’s like, huh?_ )

“Is that better? …Sans?” He gasped as his body came back down from it’s suspended high, and stared at how close her muzzle was. Sweating, his eyelights looked down at her hands still holding onto him.

“y-yeah,” Sans squeaked out of his hyoid. “great. it’s great. wow, haha. th-that was amazing? you’re amazing?” ( _Get it together, bonehead, you sound worse than Alphys when she’s having a moment…!_ ) 

Toriel laughed and Sans was certain if he grinned any harder he would dislocate his mandible. “It really isn’t. This right here though,” Her digits softly squeezed his tummy and rubbed it in wonder. “ _This_ is amazing. I had always thought it was just _you_ , but Alphys told me you made it yourself? I’ve never heard of anything like that before! It is remarkable, Sans.”

“c-c’mon, you’re making me blush,” He admitted, though ‘blush’ was probably a severe understatement, based on how much magic was throbbing in his skull. Sans shuddered under the motion of her paws sliding under the crease of his pudge over his pelvic bone. The contents inside swirled in place, magnetized by her nearby magical presence. “before all this barrier nonsense, i was just a-a weird fat skeleton who liked to pig out, heheh- _hic!_ l-let’s not _laud_ my _lard_ anymore there…” 

“Aw, but it’s a _glorious gut_. I’d like to see it _swell_ with pride.” Sans buckled over, laughing so hard that it hurt his sides to keep going, but still in a good way. After a moment of puffing for air and watching Toriel’s own tizzy spell subside, he whispered nervously while leaning into her.

“do you, um… _mean_ that?”

“I’d be lying if i said I’m not curious at least,” She sniffed and wiped at the corner of her eye, smiling. “I like that you’re different, Sans.”

“and uh,” He sank into his jacket bashfully like a turtle hiding in it’s shell, absentmindedly pulling at a string in his pocket. “and if i- if i got _really_ big?” Toriel looked surprised and Sans stammered, instantly filled with regret for bringing this up. “i-i mean, i still need a lot more magic to get the barrier down, so- so i might _look gross_ by the time we’re-”

“Nonsense,” Toriel stated firmly and laid her paw on his patella. “Monsters come in all sizes, there’s nothing _gross_ about that. Even if it wasn’t for the barrier and you just wanted to be big for yourself.”

( _There **is** something gross about it when you’re a freakish blimpy skeleton,_ ) a foreign and eerie thought rang in the back of his psyche. Sans shuddered a breath and tore his eyelights away from her astute gaze.

“sure,” He answered evasively. She took note, but luckily one of the bunnies came out of the shop with their lunch. It was the short, stout rabbit with vanilla fur and hair covering her eyes, setting down their plates with a smile.

“My, I’m gobsmacked to have the Queen herself grace my little shop with her presence. Fancy having a gander yet? It’s quite cozy inside.”

“Thank you, the pleasure is mine,” Toriel smiled up at the owner. “We’ll have to do that some other time.”

“Right-o.” She’d brought one more small dish in hand that wasn’t ordered - a crème brûlée with a bright swirl pattern of cinnamon on top. She set it down beside his ciabatta. She tipped her head his way in a shy, coquettish manner before straightening up. “Ah- um, I also thought it’d only be right to offer dessert. It’s on the house from me, heehee… Would y’like another cuppa?”

Well, Sans could get behind free food, even if he wasn’t sure why exactly he was getting it. He grinned lazily, “no thanks, i’m good.” Toriel thanked Cinnabunny as well and insisted on footing the bill, looking over her sandwich as soon as she left.

“Do you want any of this?”

“pfft, you kidding? i still have all this to eat.”

“Well then, you’d better get started,” She teased playfully before biting into her turkey and brie baguette. A little of the red pepper jelly dripped out the other end; excited tremor passed through Sans while watching her, and he refocused on the two dishes in front of him plus the cooled leftovers of Papyrus’ pasta.

Dang, if only he was hungry… He picked up the loaded fork, filled with sausage and chopped vegetables, and put it in his mouth before he could have second thoughts. Sans chewed slow and deliberately, perched precariously on the edge of wanting to eat and not wanting to eat, still so stuffed silly he had to wait for a sign. And wait. Just before he resigned himself to being unable to absorb any more magic, it gave all at once, and he swallowed it with abrupt ease.

Sans’ eyelights lit up, if only to beam at himself. 

“so, hey, tori, mind telling me what i missed at the meeting?” He opened, while biting into more.

“Oh, yes! Lalka might now have another possible solution for the dwindling water supplies. If your street cleaner Maybelle cleans the snow up and the dogs sled it out to Waterfall…”

“it’s better than some of that water just soaking into the ground,” Sans followed her train of thought, nodding along. “though, the dogs are really good at scouting. should we be outlining what we’d need them to look for if- _when_ the barrier comes down?” She paused mid bite of her own sandwich, taken by total surprise. It crumpled to sadness and uncertainty, and Sans kicked himself for bringing her down. “uh, sorry, it’s-”

“No, you have a good point. We need to prepare for both the long and short term.“ She sighed, taking a deep sip out of her tea and staring off into the quiet early afternoon of New Home. Sans’ own pasta-munching slowed to a crawl, focused entirely on her reserved demeanor. “I gave you my word not to speak of this yet to anyone.”

“thanks. i don’t particularly want the publicity, and there’s no point raising hopes this early on.” He took in another forkful of penne before continuing tentatively. “but… i know a way we could get _ready_ without a major announcement, and it also might prove a good distraction from the anti-human debate.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“teaching self defense courses at school.” A pin could have dropped in the silence that consumed the space between them. She tensed and sat upright, giving him a sudden guarded look.

“…Sans, I wish you had brought that up at the rep meeting.”

“i wasn’t gonna even if i was awake. this isn’t any of their business. you own that school, you put whatever classes you want in it- just like tom’ll put whatever garbage in the magazines he wants.” 

“I’m not Tom. And every action I make is scrutinized.” He sighed as her rigid body language held out, she _really_ didn’t like the idea of anything potentially violent. But it was no wonder public opinion of her was a mixed bag when she even ordered the _harmless_ puzzles to get taken down. 

“alright… just hear me out, tori. if… _when_ we announce a plan to take down the barrier, monsters like undyne won’t sit idly by at the thought of reaching the humans. they could start up secret fight clubs or a puzzle society regardless of your approval. you already have problems getting some of them to comply, but blowing the lid off of the underground?” He continued before she could grow too cross, “the status quo is a problem. you gotta accept that they _are_ doing this out of the goodness in their souls. if we start conditioning them now to think defensively and not offensively, we’ll have the best shot at keeping them in line for peaceful negotiations.”

“I _know_ it’s a problem,” She replied curtly and he winced, worrying that he had blown this. Afterall, it wasn’t very far removed from asking her to forgive Asgore already, if not _worse;_ she had once loved him before calamity pit them against one another. Toriel folded her paws and released a heavy sigh. The burden on her was practically a tangible weight, forcing her to look every bit as old as she was. “I… _do_ know. I appreciate the suggestion, Sans.”

“anytime,” He breathed out too, reading her cue to relax and searching for another angle to breach her understanding with him. “though… it’s really to undyne’s credit, she came to me about opening up the royal guard again. obviously that’s not on the table.”

“Obviously,” She repeated with a touch of renewed fire in her voice.

“so i thought this could be an alternative. she’s already on board, might even teach it for you.”

“…Is she really?” Toriel looked surprised, raising out of her hunch. “Well, that is an important step forward. I thought she would never let go of the royal guard.”

“they’re her family, yanno? she’d do anything to protect them,” He hinted at with a sly smile, resuming his slow wading through Papyrus’ packed lunch with another full bite. “ _all_ of the monshters are. i’sh shomfing we can get behind, right?”

“Yes,” The queen smiled warmly again. “It is.” 

 

 

Toriel continued recounting the issues the other representatives brought up as he ate at a slow and steady pace. The chilled pasta was no problem for him at all, especially since most meals back home cooled considerably before he could finish eating them. His tight waistband was still a problem though, as always, and he gave it a discreet tug lower, hidden within the nice, big jacket she bought for him at the mall.

When Sans started on his ciabatta, the cheddar, egg, and bacon melted softly in his mouth and gave him a fresh burst of delicious excitement. He scarfed it down with vigor, until he began painfully hiccuping on the last bite and clutched at his gut. 

“ _ooogh_ , **_hic!_** whelp, that was a bad idea…”

“Are you okay?”

“yeah, i just… _hurfff_ , ate too fast… **_hic!_** ”

“Here,” She changed position to lay a paw back on his belly again, giving it some loving rubs and strokes. His eyelights fluttered in and out, gulping in air and practically relaxing into a puddle of goo. He like to think he had, anyway.

“mmmmgh- _hlp_ … keep that up and- _hf_ , and i might nap _in_ my lunch instead…”

“How many naps have you had today?”

“not enough,” The world came back into focus and he lolled his skull along the backside of the chair, winking at her. “never enough.”

“I’m starting to wonder that myself. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?”

“i’m fine, _mom_ ,” He chuckled and teased, noting that his hiccups had subsided with her hand caressing his stomach. Sans gobbled up the last of his ciabatta, then broke into the crème brûlée, the creamy caramel blend melting instantly in his mouth. The tight stretch on his blue magic membrane was getting painful, but Toriel’s massaging masked it with fluttering pleasure. He sucked in another spoonful, and then another, looking up at her bashfully. “i’m gettin’ kinda full huh? heh heh…”

“Me too,” Toriel hadn’t touched the remainder of her sandwich since she began caressing his heavy belly again. She actually seemed rather content, smiling as she gave the magic membrane an effectionate squeeze, and confessed, “You’re _much_ further along than I am.” Sans had to wonder if _she_ was as enchanted by this feeling as _he_ was, because boy, she deserved to know how wonderful it felt. 

( … _If she likes it, then I should definitely keep going._ ) He resolved to finish, scooping up each painful bite. The magic hummed vibrantly up through his temporal and nasal bone, and Sans felt heavy and hazy.

( _Keep eating._ ) He licked over his teeth and slurped up more of the sweet mixture. The density of the magic even put pressure on his ribcage. Sans was suffocatingly full. 

( _Don’t… fall asleep._ ) He begged himself as he lapped up the last of the crème brûlée. A pocket of air rumbled through him, taking Toriel by surprise when he burped out, ” _ **bruuuuhhpp**_!”

“Haha! Goodness, Sans!”

“s..sorry,” He panted, nestling back into his chair with a creak, his hands joining hers in holding his throbbing stomach. “phew, i’m… stuffed to the sternum, hhheh… _huff_ …”

“I believe it,” She wrapped her arms around him fully, touching foreheads with a smile, encroaching spaces outside of what these chairs were designed for.


	10. Resolution to be Round, sausage & mushroom omelette and bonus burg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Congrats on being 1/4 the way through!!!
> 
> Thanks for your patience everyone!! I’m hoping things get a lil smoother from here. No real warnings that I can think of for this chapter.
> 
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> 
> Additionally, if you donate and include a message of what you’d like to see, I’ll try to doodle you that and send it back to that email address! :D To the people who have donated already, thank you!! The person who donated in June really saved my butt bless you seriously you don’t even know ahaha...

 

* * *

 

> Cool, soft, and rubbery. He had his face pressed into his thick magical plush, relishing the tingling sensations in his facial bones. Its consistency reminded him more of a pudding than water, but it was unusually, crisply transparent. Sans giggled to himself as he felt around the doughy lump with unseen arms, simultaneously feeling his own fondling from within his belly. There was _so much of him,_ more than he ever imagined. The sight of it filled him with joy. This was amazing.
> 
> Still looking through it, his eyelights finally focused on a new shape on the other side. The blue glow of his stomach didn’t interfere with his recognition of the kid - the decent kid, the one who befriended Papyrus and listened to his musings at the resort - pressing their face into the other side with their trademark quiet stare. Sans blinked and grinned broader, struck with an impression they were just being their goofy little human self. Their nose wrinkled as they smiled back. They exhaled a deep breath of warm air, fogging up his fatty flesh like glass, and tenderly dragged along a finger. 
> 
> Sans had to focus on not laughing at the ticklish feeling. He watched their inscription patiently as they spelled out two words - but they were written backwards from his point of view, further obscured as the fog began to lift.
> 
> bɘnimɿɘƚɘb yɒƚƨ
> 
> What were they trying to tell him? He couldn’t ask, or maybe he just didn’t; it was hard to tell, as only a moment later he saw that wretched flower spiraling up between them, teeth bared in a wicked grin. Sans panicked at Flowey’s presence _inside_ his stomach and flailed back in surprise, losing his balance. Wherever, _whatever_ , this was, he could only feel himself teetering precariously. Helplessly stuck on this invisible edge, he grimaced down at Flowey, squirming around inside the fatty blue orb.
> 
> “Gosh, what a fat fool. Didn’t I tell you this before?” His horrible, saccharine voice set dread into his SOUL. Sans couldn’t see it happen, but he felt like he was being bound up by vines at the magical joints of each bone. He wanted to scream or push Flowey away, but he was prone and incapable. “In this world... **i͢t’s͠ ̨ k i͝ l̨ l̡ o͏ r ̴ b e   k̷̀́i̸̴̧l͢l̵̵̛e̵ d̶**.”
> 
> A vine wrapped around his SOUL and Sans tilted back over the edge, falling.

Sans jolted at the loud banging on his door, bones flashing hot with his magic, his eye on fire. He panted and looked around his chaotic, messy room warily. Oh, he was dreaming. Was there a reset? 

After spending a moment regaining clarity, it was easy to tell there hadn’t been. His phalanges slid up to rest on his round stomach as it prickled with lingering anxiety. Sans slumped down into his blanket cocoon and rolled over onto his side to follow the shift of his gut. Why did it have to be morning already? He felt like he _just_ went to sleep- 

“SAAAANS! COME ON, WAKE UP LAZY BONES!”

“i _am_ , pap, chill,” He whined back at the banging from the other side of his door and curled up tighter. He didn’t even try to fight his desire to stay horizontal.

“OH, GOOD,” Papyrus’ voice boomed through the door at a volume that, from anyone but his brother, would definitely be illegal at this hour of the morning. “WELL, I SHALL BE FINISHED WITH BREAKFAST ACCOMMODATIONS SHORTLY, SO COME ON DOWN WHEN YOU’RE READY!”

“kay.”

Today already didn’t feel like a good day. The idea of breakfast didn’t even raise a stir in him, though this could probably be attributed to shoving everything within reach into his fat face yesterday. Sans huffed a sigh and closed his eyesockets again, feeling the puffy and slightly sticky membrane of his gut press tighter into his resting bones. The pressure felt oddly soothing and he smiled to himself.

( _Flowey... can’t get in there, right?_ )

Remembering his dream, he slid his shirt up and felt relieved to find just his own magic inside, swirling away with the glittering vestiges of Papyrus’ dinner. No Flowey, no human staring through. Just him, as he was. Sans continued to tenderly knead.

( _Leave it to that weed to ruin a perfectly fun dream._ )

Well, he _could_ maybe try to go back to it and figure out what that kid was trying to say. Sans tallied all the things in his skull that could be postponed. Checking on the ruins could wait until later. There were no meetings today. He had already planned to blow off Mettaton’s stand up comedy act at the resort. Alphys wouldn’t object to waiting a day for an update scan - he could just text her later. His sheets were downright gross and he needed a wash, but he was unburdened by this. Papyrus would feed his pet rock anyway.

Yep, maybe today’s objective was staying as inert as possible, if for no other reason than how unprepared he felt to face even a single facet of reality. A good, all-day nap could fix him right up... That or a coma.

“OKAY, BREAKFAST IS READY,” His brother shouted from downstairs. Sans didn’t answer, but Papyrus wouldn’t have heard him anyway. He thought about texting him to wrap breakfast up for later, but he’d have to move his big belly to stretch for his phone and that was too much effort. Seconds became precious minutes of silence and stillness as Sans dozed. Feet stomping up the stairs broke the tranquility, and he whined to himself in anticipation of having to _deal_ with something. “BROTHER, WAKE UP!!”

“'m awake.”

“GOOD, THEN COME ON OUT ALREADY!”

“don’t wanna.”

“WHY IS THAT?”

“‘m tired.”

“YOU’RE ALWAYS TIRED!”

“yeah.” 

“BUT,” The frustrated edge in Papyrus’ voice dropped into a more appeasing tone and Sans frowned at himself. “BUT A DELICIOUS BREAKFAST MADE BY YOUR WONDERFUL BROTHER IS WAITING FOR YOU!”

“just leave it, i’ll eat it when i get up. thanks bro.” A moment of silence passed and Sans wondered if he’d won this argument-

“PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR?” 

Nope, not by a long shot. Now his brother just sounded worried, jostling the knob to check it and finding it locked as always. Well, he couldn’t leave him hanging like that. Sans blinked lethargically and focused a little flicker of his magic on the lock, turning it without even raising a hand.

“there ya go, babybones.” Papyrus came inside and pouted at the lump of his brother under sheets.

“WORRYING ABOUT YOU DOES NOT MAKE ME A BABYBONES! IT MAKES ME A _NANNY_ BONES, NYEH HEH.” Okay, he couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that, smiling tiredly.

“if you say so mary _pap_ pins.”

“AS MUCH AS I LOVE THAT FUNNY UMBRELLA LADY, AND WOULD MOST LOVE HER HELP IN CLEANING UP YOUR DISGUSTING ROOM, I AM CURRENTLY TASKED WITH GETTING YOU OUT OF YOUR BED!”

“you’d have better luck raising the dead,” Sans smiled but it wavered when he looked at Papyrus’ face and saw timid eyesockets staring back. “seriously? because _we’re **skeletons**_?”

“WELL, I DO NOT LIKE THIS JOKE,” Papyrus announced and snagged Sans’ blanket. “IT IS TIME TO RISE AND SHINE FOR ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL DAY, BROTHER!” Sans didn’t relinquish it, groaning a little and curling tighter.

“papyyyyruuuus noooo... please, i'm _tired_...”

“THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE STILL LAYING DOWN!” He let go and stepped back, huffing in annoyance and studying Sans. “GETTING YOUR BONES MOVING WILL DO YOU GOOD! IT’S A RHYTHM! SEE HOW WELL YOU’VE BEEN DOING LATELY- GETTING UP FOR BREAKFAST AND DOING WORK STUFF? THIS IS JUST ONE MORE TIME, SANS! YOU CAN DO IT!!”

"ugghhhh... but that’s why i feel so burned out... that rep meeting yesterday was stressful.” ( _Among other things..._ ) Papyrus stared at Sans. He squint-stared back. After a moment of observing each other’s resolve more so than testing it, Sans chuckled. “they know how to work me to the _bone_.”

“NYAARGH! OKAY… THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS ELECTED TO LEAVE YOU TO YOUR LAZING ABOUT." Papyrus retreated, leaving his door open. Sans loosened his hold on his blankets and sighed despondently. Great, he’d won, but now his brother was going to have a bad day because of him… Way to be selfish. There was no going back to sleep and dreaming about his super big belly now. He laid there and felt guilty for not getting up and going down there anyway when he heard footsteps returning. He poked his head out of the blanket cocoon. 

Sans decided to see if he could at least meet him halfway, calling out, "what's up bro?" Papyrus appeared at his door a moment later, cheerfully balancing some plates and looking as if this was still all part of a normal morning routine.

"I HAD _ANOTHER_ WONDERFUL IDEA! IT'S MY THIRD ONE OF THE MORNING SANS, NYEHEHEH! CHECK THIS OUT, WE CAN JUST EAT BREAKFAST _IN HERE_ AND YOU MAY REMAIN AS IMMOBILE AS EVER!"

"that's amazing," Sans beamed back and propped himself up against his pillow. "heh heh, do i gotta tip you for the room service?"

"JUST DON'T CRUMB UP YOUR BED ANY MORE THAN IT ALREADY IS." Papyrus tentatively sat at the edge of his bed and barely withheld a grimace. He handed over the plate. "YEUGH, HOW DO YOU SLEEP IN THIS?"

"you don't choose the squalid life, the squalid life chooses you." Sans took the offering and chuckled at his brother's disgust. His attention turned to the now-chilly omelette in his hands. The whisked egg had a colorful texture from being mixed with cheese and garlic, and it was folded and stuffed like a pocket with mushrooms and sausage. It looked delicious. Sans took a big bite and chewed at the tender meat inside with a renewed desire. "mmmhhh, sh'great bro…!"

"-SANS, WAIT! NO, I BROUGHT UTENSILS! DON'T EAT WITH YOUR HANDS, IT'S NOT POLITE!"

"mmh, shorry bro, though i don' fink eaten' in bed ish polite eihfer." He halfheartedly shrugged and took the fork and knife from Papyrus anyway, but as soon as Papyrus cut into his own omelette, he gnashed another mouthful out of his hands. Sans just wanted to devour it too badly now to bother with manners. His stomach gurgled in appreciation and the magic hummed pleasantly against the edge of his ribcage.

"I'M GLAD I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS! THE WATER SAUSAGE HAS THIS HEARTY KICK OF SPICE TO IT. LIKE DRINKING MOUTHWASH!" Sans was already stuffing the last of it into his mouth, and he was much too preoccupied with licking off the light grease from his phalanges to agree properly. Papyrus accepted this muffled approval. "SEE NOW, THAT'S HOW TO START THE DAY OFF RIGHT! AND THE BEST PART IS WE CAN STILL ENJOY IT TOGETHER, NYEH HEH!"

( _Together, huh…_ ) Right, Papyrus was probably still feeling touchy about him disappearing for a couple of days in a row… Sans idly drummed his knife and fork on the edge of his plate, deep in thought. He figured he should give Papyrus time to enjoy his own work of art. ( _He's not wrong in being upset. I'd be feeling pretty uncertain too if it was the other way around…_ ) He blinked and realized he'd missed Papyrus going on about picking the perfect name out for something.

"huh? sorry, what is this for?"

"FOR THE LITTLE ECHOFLOWER SPROUT I FOUND AT THE EDGE OF SNOWDIN! THE ONE I RESCUED LAST WEEK, REMEMBER?"

"…wow, that was already a week ago?" He blurted his shock out loud, then quickly recovered his casual nonchalance, smoothly jesting, "heh heh, well, i guess your lalia is _growing_ on you, then, if you went so far as to name it."

"YES! LALIA WILL BE BIG ENOUGH TO BLOOM SOON, SO HOPEFULLY THEN I CAN REPLANT IT WITH ITS FRIENDS OUT IN WATERFALL!" Leave it to his brother to even notice distressed flora and offer his love and support... Yet here he was, sneaking around behind his back. Sans felt increasingly crushed by his own disregard of Papyrus' feelings, like he was doing something seriously wrong in trying to play it down and shelter him from the truth. It was... Withering.

"you… you really are the coolest, papyrus." He forced a smile and, with a little struggle, pushed himself upright in bed. His automatic slouch set in as he took his brother's gloved hand in his own and winked. " _hands_ down."

"UGH, WELL… YOU ARE AT LEAST CORRECT ABOUT THAT, EVEN IF IT'S NOT FUNNY."

"alright. fine, no jokes about it." Sans inhaled, grip tightening on Papyrus' hand. "i'm _really sorry_ i left you alone without warning. i… i understand if you're still upset about that."

"I AM NOT UPSET ABOUT IT," He denied stiffly, shifting in place. An obvious dodge, but Papyrus continued. "YOU SHOULDN'T BE SORRY FOR DOING WORK WITH ALPHYS, SANS! IF ANYTHING, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WAS SELFISH TO WANT YOU THEN. YOU ARE YOUR OWN SKELETON AFTER ALL." 

"it's not selfish. i'm your brother before anything else," Sans answered adamantly. He disentangled their hands and leaned in to grab either side of Papyrus’ cheekbones. "honest, i've never avoided you _because_ of you, pap. maybe i have tried to for something you'll make me do, or for something i know you're going to say that i didn't want to hear... but i have _never_ avoided you because i didn't want you around or in my life." Papyrus' narrow eyesockets squinted back and Sans could feel uncertainty pressing back in his silence. "papyrus," He tried again. "bro. you're the best… if you don't know that, like, etched into your marrow know it, then i'm doing a horrible job at being your brother."

"NO, I DO KNOW THAT I'M THE BEST, SANS! YOU ARE A GREAT BROTHER WHOM I ADMIRE VERY MUCH, BUT YOUR BREATH IS JUST AWFUL, SO MAYBE GARLIC FOR BREAKFAST WASN'T THE ‘BEST’ IDEA, HEH HEH…" Sans stared. Papyrus stared, and then smiled, back. His face broke into such a wide grin in return that it was actually painful.

"oh… oh **wow.** really? is this really happening right now? you're _trolling me_ bro?" Papyrus giggled and Sans just shook his head in feigned lament. "here i am just pouring my SOUL out for you and you’re gonna try and steal my comic thunder now of all times? _unbelievable_."

"THIS IS, HOW DO YOU SAY IT, ‘GETTING DUNKED’, RIGHT?"

" _ **no**_ ," Sans rose his voice and playfully shoved Papyrus away, trying to push him off the bed. "you do _not_ get to dunk me in my room, papyrus! you get out of here, you jerk, before i turn you blue!"

"NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH! BRUSH YOUR TEETH NEXT TIME, SANS, NYEH HEH HEH!!" He did manage to collect up the tableware before Sans could finish evicting him, which definitely did not end with just Papyrus getting out of the bed. 

"wow, you gonna _drill_ me for that? you may know how to leave such a big _cavity_ in my heart, bro, but you're never gonna steal my _crown_."

"MMMM WHATCHA SAYYY-" Papyrus couldn't find it in himself to continue to sing over Sans, erupting into a fit of laughs as his brother tagged along to properly eject him.

"no! life alert, send help…!" He wrestled him down out into the hallway, the two skeletons laughing and making lunging attempts at each other's funny bones. Well, _that_ certainly was one way to get his bones up and moving in the morning...

* * *

 

After Papyrus set off on his morning jog, Sans figured he’d try to make something of the day, and paying off a debt was a good inclination to have. He came by the pub just as Grillby was opening up shop; its neon “open” sign flickered into life next to its owner in the window, above Sans’ head. He stood at the door and beamed, meeting the flamesman’s steely gaze with a hopeful grin. The two of them stood silent, separated by glass. Sans noted that Grillby burned with a steady, even glow.

( _Okay, so he isn’t too mad at me. Awesome._ ) Sans sometimes didn’t know what to expect of the older monster, especially when it came to his debts. He rocked back on his calcanei, snow crunching underfoot, and waited for the door to unlock.

“hey grillbz.” He stepped into his second home with practiced nonchalance, moseying like a cat monster on familiar turf after Grillby. Grillby came up to the bar and reached over it to grab a ketchup bottle from under the counter, offering it as he sat down in the seat besides Sans’. That was a touch out of the ordinary... Though so was Sans showing up bright and early. “heh, thanks,” Sans accepted the entire bottle and hopped up on his seat. His wider gut threw him off his stride, or rather, _added_ an unsteady momentum to it, and tried to slide him clear off the stool. It forced him to find a safe balance before he could assume his normal slouch.

“You’re up early,” Grillby observed. Sans tucked the bottle’s nozzle between his teeth and sucked in a large gulp with great pleasure.

“mmphr, papyrush, yanno? he’sh a great motivator.” He finished half of the offering and set it down with a sigh. “hey, so thanks for not bringing up my little accident in front of him. how much did it cost to repair?”

“300g.” Sans winced and glanced out of the corner of his eyesocket at the booth he had skewered the other day. There was no sign of a patch in the leather at all. Well, whoever did it for 300g was undercharging, considering their level of craftsmanship.

“ahh... alright, i figured i’d owe ya. here,” He reached into a coat pocket for his coin but Grillby held a wispy hand up.

“No, Sans. Don’t reimburse me.” Stunned, Sans nearly dropped the change. He had to brace himself on the bar stool to give Grillby a stern, measured look in exchange.

“wh-what? since when have...?” Suddenly, the light in his eyes brightened and he beamed, chuckling earnestly. “oh! pfft, heh heh heh, wow grillbz, you got me there! i almost thought you were serio-”

“I am serious,” Grillby reiterated, and brought his hand back to delicately adjust his glasses. Sans quieted down.

Now, were it coming from any other vendor, Sans would have jumped on the offer and run for the hills with it, excited to get away with something. But Grillby was... Grillby was tall, mature, and had his life together, and he didn’t look down on Sans because of it, _certainly_ not by way of judging the younger skeleton’s contrasting lifestyle. Grillby listened, even if the matter was beyond his understanding, and he only offered advice when he knew he had something to contribute. Grillby was infinitely patient, but he didn’t offer charity - there was no grey area about Sans’ tab being _his_ responsibility to pay off. Grillby was a _special_ monster to Sans, unlike any other relationship he had. 

But Sans couldn’t read past the flamesman’s emotional firewall and he felt affronted by the fact Grillby would reach out and take full ownership of _his_ mistake. As if the gesture itself was a mark of disappointment.

The skeleton felt a rare surge of shame and hunched over, picking at the gold rivets of his jacket. “but i want to pay for it,” He muttered stubbornly. “i _came_ here to pay you back.”

“I don’t want your gold. There’s something else I want of you instead.” Well, that was an entirely different matter. Sans straightened up, bitterness draining away and curiosity taking it’s place.

“yeah? what’s that?”

“Take Papyrus seriously about this diet. He’s worried about you. I’m worried, too,” He added in quickly. Sans deflated into his seat, hunching down, his smile whitewashing a grimace. Of all the monsters to try to encourage him to lose weight, he never expected one of them to be _Grillby_. Not just because it wasn’t wise for his business, but because... Because he _never_ interfered!

“but i... _why_ ,” Sans floundered, staring at his carpals splayed over his covered tum.

“I can’t speak for your brother’s reasoning. But you’re accumulating more magic than you can control. I’m afraid you might hurt someone like this.”

“wh-what?” Sans suddenly laughed, inappropriately as it was, beside himself with the accusations of his long-time confidant. “grillbz- _c’mon_ , that’s absurd. i’ve got _great_ control.”

“So you fired a bone into my booth intentionally?”

“no...! it was just a little mistake and i’m sorry it happened, but if i didn’t have all this extra magic, would you be treating it the same way?” Sans pressed back, tone obviously affronted, as much as he tried not to be.

“If you have _‘great’_ control, you wouldn’t have made that mistake.” Grillby sighed a puff of light smoke, fire simmering down to a softer smolder as he hunched down to Sans’ level. “What if your mistake had hurt someone?”

“hi, i’m sans, and i have _STATrophy_ ,” He chided bitterly. “come off it, the only person i could _actually_ hurt is myself. that’s what papyrus is all up in arms about-” Sans stopped and reflected a moment while watching the bartender’s demeanor. All at once, his own building resentment drained away and left him feeling nothing at all, staring back blankly. “i just... i thought you could at least give me a chance to not do it again...” 

“I am,” Grillby answered coolly, unfazed by San’s biting remarks. They stayed stuck there in contentious silence, the skeleton masking his emotions with an equally guarded smile back. Deep down he was just so... _so sick and tired_ of being judged for or denied or something he found meaningful. Eating was pleasant and made him happy; being big and soft was a product of his joy, a positive cause and effect _he_ controlled. It made him different, sure, but now different might be the solution to their barrier problems, too! _  
_

“Sans,” Grillby broke the silence, dragging Sans out of his thoughts. Stern as he was, his voice was still soft and warm, taking on a more pleading timbre. “This isn’t what I want either. I don’t mind what you want to do with yourself. But the subject of magic control is... A bit sensitive for me.” Sans’ expression creased in response, though he continued anyway. “Fire monsters... like myself, we aren’t _born_ with control over our magic.”

“don’t most monsters have to learn that?”

“Not like this. We have a very high concentration of magic and a less corporeal form than the average monster. I heard that once over, we weren’t even allowed to integrate with the rest of monster society because of the hazard even a single flamesman posed.” 

“uh... wow,” He mumbled in slight dismay. Why hadn’t he ever heard of this before? “i’m sorry. species divisionism isn’t fair.”

“Well, that was before my time, anyway. What's important here is, in order to integrate, we still have to go through a rigorous process to control that magic. I’ve lived through the difficulty of harnessing it myself, of course... But I’ve also seen the devastation of losing control.”

“and you think i’m slipping because i’m saturating myself with magic? cause i damaged your booth _one time_ -”

“I’m _sure_ of it,” Grillby said unflinchingly. “Spawning your white magic may not be as dangerous, but it has all the marks of someone who is struggling. Don’t lie to yourself.” ( _I’m not! ...Right?_ ) Sans plastered on his grin, eyesockets furrowing as he picked through his skull for any-

> _[S](http://sanssinquest.tumblr.com/post/139479921592/3-crossroads-onion-ring-mayhem-and-caramel-apple)ans’ initial confusion shifted gears into panic all too quickly, the whiplash leaking through his composure and summoning a bone to skewer the plush booth seat directly behind him. _

sign-

> __[“h](http://sanssinquest.tumblr.com/post/142001239642/7-walls-between-us-new-home-malls-food-court)icCUP_ ,” Sans squeaked loudly as he tried to resist the next wave of magic, summoning a bone in the reflux to sit in his empty food containers._

of-

> _[S](http://sanssinquest.tumblr.com/post/144026523087/9-wrangling-the-goat-rodeo-cheesy-penne-bake)ans flinched again when he dropped suddenly thanks to the weakened webbing, his fear forcing his eyesockets open as the heat of his magic flashed through him. It took no concentration to summon a sturdy femur from the ground far below, extending upward like a stalagmite. That was all instinct, burning in his left eye.  _

a-

> _[A](http://sanssinquest.tumblr.com/post/142001239642/7-walls-between-us-new-home-malls-food-court)gain- his magic was rushing out like a violent current, he didn’t even wait for her feedback before beginning the cycle over._
> 
> _Again-_
> 
> _Again-_
> 
> _Again-  
> _
> 
> _( What if you can’t stop? ) Helplessness crept into his SOUL as the frightening thought struck him. Was he losing control, or had he already lost it? Should he be resisting this flow? Maybe was he just being paranoid…? Yeah, that had to be it. Afterall, who the hell could **lose control** of their magic like that-?_

...pattern. 

( _Oh._ )

Grillby was right. He had written off these instances as isolated incidents and moments of great stress, but _he never had these problems before_ even when he was under the gun. Fighting to keep in control was becoming a _norm_. That very notion was alarming, enough to stir the magic in his belly; it gripped his lower ribcage like hundreds of small, sharp claws. Before he could panic _at_ his panic, Grillby reached a gentle hand out to his shoulder and grounded him.

“Sans.”

“uh-! y-yeah. you’re right! sorry..." Sans straightened on his stool to hide the shiver that ran up his spine. “thank you, i really... should have noticed sooner. heh, things have been a bit overwhelming lately...”

“Your sensory and emotional range changes with it... I’m not surprised.”

“...so what do i _do_ grillbz?” He looked up. “what did _you_ do to get yourself straight?”

“I don’t believe you want to put yourself through that.”

“i do.”

“...” The flamesman looked troubled and finally turned away, staring off into the lit entryway of his business. Sans waited patiently in return. “You’re being exceptionally stubborn about this...”

“well hows this, tell me what you hotheads do to _reign_ in your magic- heh, _no_ pun intended- and i’ll tell you why i can’t accept that for an answer.”

“...” Still, Grillby didn’t cast any light on the puzzle. After a moment, he got up and saw himself out to the kitchen area behind the bar. Sans slouched into the counter, burying his mandible in his jacket sleeves and staring at the bottles ahead. How bad could it be? Grillby cared enough, of course he did, so he wouldn’t hide something that would help Sans... Right?

( _Maybe it involved stuff that wouldn’t apply for a skeleton,_ ) He tried to rationalize to himself. ( _Like getting drenched in water. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up rain..._ )

Just before Sans could get up and shuffle off to brood about this troublesome development elsewhere, Grillby returned, walked up to the counter, and laid down a plate. A hot double-stack burg with ketchup, mustard, pickle, cheese, extra bacon and fries, served up just the way he liked it. He looked up with bright eyelights, his stomach suddenly burbling in hunger for the delicious meal. “g...grillbz?”

“I’ll see about training you,” Grillby answered the unspoken question. “And we’ll go from there.” 

“heh! i am all for training that involves some great burg,” Sans beamed and picked up the hearty sandwich, teeth slicing through the juicy meat and fluffy fresh roll. God, it’d been too long... He drew a deep breath through his nasal cavity so the magical flavor would permeate his senses further, and he soaked it in like a dry sponge. Grillby even got him his preferred amount of grease despite being the first burg on the grill today! ( _So delicious_ ), he thought as he groaned through the mouthful. His belly tickled in delight and he gulped down the magic, he raised his hand in an ‘okay’ sign to offer his compliments to the chef. 

Sans was so engrossed in the food that he hadn’t noticed when Grillby put out Lesser Dog’s empty feed bowl near the plate. His interest in what was being set up didn’t alleviate his driving desire to stuff more of that heavenly grilled patty into his mouth, so he quickly shoved in another messy, massive bite.

“Sans, listen.” He watched the flamesman, but held his burg protectively close as if it was going to be snatched away. He should probably have stopped to hear him speak; chewing through slightly crisped bacon and pickle with muffled moans and sloppy, shucking sounds was likely _a little_ distracting to Grillby, if not _completely_ distracting to the skeleton. “No, you may keep eating, but you need to pay attention.” He relaxed at the reassurance and sucked down a wash of ketchup. Grillby continued, “I’m not sure how _well_ this will work, but the idea is to practice focus and accuracy. Direct a bone into Lesser’s bowl, no bigger than a biscuit, when I ring the bell.”

“mmh, alright,” Sans shrugged and took his next bite, the burger squirting out some cheesy dribble laced with ketchup. He closed his eyesockets a moment to feel around for the warm magic accumulating in his belly, giving it a loving stroke. No sooner had he finished chewing did Grillby ring the bell, and, startled by the sound, Sans flinched and swallowed down the bite as a knotted lump of magic. “ghhk...”

“You were supposed to make a bone just now.”

“you didn’t say you'd ring the bell _while_ i’m eating,” he huffed. “isn’t the training to keep me _from_ using my magic inappropriately?”

“The training is to ensure that you remain in control of your power at all times.” Grillby ducked down a little, his flames simmering as he spoke in an eerily calm manner. “Self awareness and technical prowess in using your magic will be the only way to prepare yourself for stressful circumstances or situations.”

This training stuff sounded pretty unpleasant now. Sans had a problem _walking and eating_ at the same time, let alone extracting magic in a very specific manner, on command, _while_ stuffing his face. But, if it was that or accidentally making shish-ka-bob out of other monsters or property... he had to try.

“uh... yeah okay.” ( _I guess we’re doing this now._ ) He stared pensively at the bowl, keeping in mind how far away he needed to summon it and visualizing the dog treat size sitting within the bowl. Sans inhaled and peeked at Grillby watching him again before returning to his meal, picking up a single, beer-battered fry and swiping it in ketchup. He ate much slower, trying hard not to get too carried away with how delicious and greasy the extra golden fry was.

Grillby didn’t ring the bell.

He narrowed his eyesockets and picked up a handful more, and ate them slowly. Towards the end, he grabbed the ketchup bottle and emptied the last of it on a deep, satisfying suck.

He still didn’t ring the bell.

“you’re making me anxious,” Sans confessed and chuckled lightheartedly, though in truth he was already feeling a burning indigestion pick up. Geez, he just wanted to finish that burger, but he didn’t want his next shot to come while trying to chow down on a complex and immensely gratifying dish like that.

“Do you want to quit then?”

“no.” ( _Yes, and hell yes,_ ) he lamented internally and picked up his burg anyway, tentatively taking a small bite. He chewed carefully while watching for the bell. Grillby took off his glasses and rubbed at his plasma face a moment, showing some vexation by all of this for the first time. Maybe it was just because Sans was _so bad_ at it. Well, he’d let the burg melt naturally in his mouth while the other was distracted at least, mumbling, “mmh, shorry.”

“You needn't be sorry,” Grillby sighed and replaced his glasses. “Just- please relax and eat your meal like usual. If you don’t succeed making a bone on the bell, we’ll just try again.” Oh, yeah. He’s supposed to react to something unpredictable. ( _Right..._ ) Sans nodded, trying to go back to eating. He huffed a cool breath, pushing down the quivering magic rattling his ribcage, and pushed the last of the burger into his maw. He nipped at the end to fit the entire thing in, sleazy roll dripping with ketchup, cheese and all. The heavenly flavor was dulled by his angst, but it was still fulfilling. It’d be nice enough to feel that warm and heavy magic sitting on his lap swell up, tight and sweaty from fried foods, thick grease still coating his tongue... 

_Ding!_ ( _Argh...!_ ) Sans clamped down on his teeth, squinting as he tried to pry his focus back to the image of the dog bone in the bowl. His stomach flipped like a pancake as he dug into his magical reserves and threw out the bone bullet in a hurry. It clattered, bouncing once over the bowl then skipping off the counter top past Grillby. He deftly caught it in a waft of super-heated air over his palm, guiding it back to the bowl. It laid out over the bowl’s rim, as what Sans summoned was easily three times too big.

“It’s good,” Grillby reassured. “You did fine for a first shot. Sans?”

He blinked unevenly, smiling through a sweat-drenched grimace. “uh...uh-huh?”

“Are you alright?”

( _Hardly,_ ) He bit back. The stress on his SOUL tangled everything up and he felt sickened by it. Grillby might not have been disappointed, but Sans was looking the reality of this control issue in the face. He _knew_ he’d measured how much magic he summoned, how did he still apply too much force? Worst of all was feeling his magic trying to take off without him. It was like re-corking a shaken up bottle he’d opened for a split second.  

Sans felt nauseous and his bones were throbbing, but he refused to lose control of himself. He couldn’t, not _ever_ again. It was a price he’d pay for the freedom to eat as much as he wanted. But... Hopefully with Grillby helping him, he wouldn’t have to pay such a serious toll.

“yep,” He chirped through a plastered grin, blank eyesockets betraying how his resolve was born out of his dread. “i’m fine. let’s go again.”

“How about a small break first.” Grillby spoke with a tone of authority and took a pickle from a jar, laying it on Sans’ plate. Sans exhaled a shaky breath and took it. He bit into the crisp, yet slightly soft, tangy snack and was relieved by how the soothing all-natural magic curated his greasy indigestion. Grillby knew _him_ like he knew every inch of his own bar.

“thanks... but i wanna keep going,” He halfheartedly protested between bites.

“...You mentioned something about ‘why you can’t say no’... What is this really about, Sans?”

“...heh.” Sans slumped in exhaustion. “alright... just... keep this on the down-low, okay? we’re still not sure of the viability, and, uh... there’s the new issue you just brought up now about control...” He leaned in to whisper despite the restaurant being empty, “i’m gathering magic to break the barrier.”

“So that wasn’t a joke?” 

“no, that _was_ a joke, but then we found a new method for disrupting the continuous magic flow and ran some tests and... heheh, the next thing i know, it’s a pretty tantalizing option on the table. i’ve been setting up the experiment with alphys over the last few days.”

“I understand. The others were worried about you, though. It's all they've been talking about."

"eh, that's cause their lives are so boring," Sans cracked a smile and finished off his pickle, licking the juice off his distal phalanges. "i'll let 'em know eventually. i'm having trouble figuring out how to tell papyrus first..."

"His diet plan?"

"yeah but- it's getting worse than just me being fat and weird. now he's somehow worked himself up, believing that i'm in some mortal danger doing this." He thought back to this morning, sighed, then rubbed his sleeve along his sweaty, greasy mandible. “he even got upset when i made a _skeletal remains_ joke...”

"…What if it were true though, Sans."

"i don't think i even _care_ if that’s true," Sans huffed back without a second thought. Grillby rose both of his flaming eyebrows so he stumbled along to clarify. "we _all_ fall down eventually, worrying about when or how is pretty pointless, yanno? i mean, wouldn't it be better if it were…?" ( _For something so indulgent and wonderful…?_ ) His eyesockets scrunched up, hung up on how to convey these feelings without seeming like he was embracing death. Honestly, it was the opposite, he'd never felt _so alive_. "…okay, if it were just to bring the barrier down, sure i'd tell him i could gain the weight and lose it again for a diet… but the problem is he _hates_ what i _love_. and i… love eating. and i love being big." 

He straightened and looked down at his phalanges resting on the edges of his rounded shape, reviewing this admission in his skull. ( _That is really what you want, right?_ ) Last night wasn't the first time Sans dreamed about being so large and heavy. He had such a permanent presence and healthy glow in them, it always felt _right_. Like this was the way his SOUL should have been manifested all along...

The magic beneath his pinched distal phalanges warmed at these comforting thoughts as he smiled down at the soft plush. He felt a calm, relieving tingle spread out from his SOUL and he drew an intoxicating breath of the quiet restaurant air. It was reminiscent of the green magic Toriel had infused him with yesterday, and equally as comforting… With a sudden, urgent clarity, he blurted his response before Grillby could speak, practically glowing. "yeah! grillbz, _i love being fat_! that's exactly it...! the barrier’s just an excuse for me to be me, and i can’t tell him what’s been going on as- as if it _isnt_! …heheheh, wow that's like a _great weight_ lifted off of me." Sans broke into a fit of giggles at his joke, weirdly giddy over his own problems. Grillby's flames dimmed to a tender and gentle flicker watching him until he settled on his own accord.

"I am very glad you have that, Sans, and to help be a part of it. It's a good change worth fighting for."

"hehe, sure, take as much credit for making me a glutton as you want,” Sans winked. “‘i make monsters fat and happy’ sounds like a great slogan. or i could do a testimonial for you, heheh!”

“Are you sure you would want that?”

“heh...! n-nah,” Sans confessed and squirmed, equally excited and mortified at the idea of being openly... _different_. After a silent moment passed, he murmured more earnestly. “but... i am stuck over telling him. i don't want to fight papyrus, i love _him_ too."

"I don't believe you have to fight him. Your brother thinks the world of you." Grillby reached out to Sans with a firm, encouraging grip on his shoulder. "Besides… Maintaining your magic control will be _much_ more challenging."

"hah," He cracked a grin and squinted his eyesockets. "are you really gonna stand there and underestimate me? come on, _who else_ willed themselves a magical organ just to shove more of your food into their face?" He stretched back and patted his stomach proudly through his shirt, revelling in the vibrations arcing across its surface. "there's _no way_ simple magic control is going to stop me."

"I'll be counting on that, Sans..." Grillby let go, sounding reassured by Sans' boosted confidence in the matter. "You said you're ready to go another round?"

Sans took a deep breath in and held it a moment before exhaling. "yeah... let's go." 


	11. Stand Up, sushi, seafood, surprises and spooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (( Wow, it’s been a crazy July/August for me, and I really do appreciate how patient and kind my readers are about updates. ♥ Good luck to those going back to school, I hope this ends your summer on a high note! Special thanks to our beta reader @skeletonshitposts and my best friend @anaislingmemory for helping me write through my least favorite food group and being generally awesome, supportive friends.
> 
> Warnings: Nothing big this chapter but just some discomfort heads up like awkward situations, public humiliation, eating leftovers from others/ garbage, and cynicism.
> 
> You can find the compilation of Sans’ Sin Quest chapters linked in the sidebar of this blog under “Masterpost”! Also, our ko-fi donation widget is there too, just in case you want to feed an irl skele with your love & money. ♥ Additionally, if you donate and include a message of what you’d like to see*, I’ll try to doodle you that and send it back to that email address! :D To the people who have donated already, thank you!!
> 
> * currently I’m having a struggle with my Paypal account so please be patient with me if you do donate and ask for a doodle! ))

 

* * *

 

There was a knock at the door, and maybe if Sans weren't perfectly comfortable on the couch he would have saved Papyrus the effort of answering. But alas, perfectly situated sprawls were very important to maintain as long as possible.

"bro, the door," He called out, curled up and staring blankly at the TV as some rerun of Robot Fancy played.

"I'VE GOT IT!" Papyrus scampered out of the kitchen and… Was, well, oddly quiet. He didn't hear any kind of explosive, warm welcome. Sans squinted then squeezed his eyesockets shut. _( Nooo, please don't make me get up, )_ he prayed. _( **Please** go away, whoever you- )_

"` _Hello_ beautiful~!`" A robotic voice pierced his hopes and dreams of a nice, relaxing evening. "`I was hoping Sans was home.`" 

"OH...OH MY GOD?” Papyrus stammered. “METTATON- THE GREATEST STAR OF THE UNDERGROUND? YOU'RE REALLY METTATON AREN'T YOU?!" He went from zero to nine on the richter scale, shouting with equal parts delight and horror, "SAAAAAAANS! WHY YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE MOST FAMOUS AND AMAZING METTATON WAS COMING OVER!? I CAN'T GREET HIM PROPERLY DRESSED LIKE- LIKE _THIS_!"

"i didn't know either," Sans grumbled and remained adamantly fixed in place. He was rather displeased with Mettaton trying to thwart his plans to skip his stand up act at the resort. What was he going to do, _harass_ him to go to work?

"`OH YES~ my sweet, cherished viewers! You have indeed been blessed with a paradigm of the arts at your door! Your cozy, colorful decor is--! Well, actually it’s a bit of a faux pas this far away from Gyftmas, but your spirited attempt fills me with joy nonetheless!`”

“METTATON, PLEASE! NOT ANOTHER STEP! I WILL ROLL OUT THE RED CARPET RIGHT AWAY!” Papyrus pulled off his scarf and draped it over their carpet, clasping both gloved hands in front of the robot at the edge of their doorway. “OH, THIS IS THE CAPE OF THE ROYAL GUARD, PRESENTED BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AS HE IS HUMBLED BY YOUR WISDOM!”

( _Please end my suffering,_ ) Sans inwardly groaned and buried his face in the couch cushion.

“`The Royal Guard? Ooh, how VINTAGE! And it’s such a fun shade of blood red! Please, dear``, tell us more of these JUICY human head hunting adventures!”`

“I FOUND A HUMAN WITH A HEAD ATTACHED AND EVERYTHING! I CAPTURED THEM WITH MY CHARMING PERSONALITY, BAFFLED THEM WITH INGENIOUS PUZZLES, AND THEN BROKE THEIR HEART WITH MY DASHING GOOD LOOKS! NYEH HEH!” 

Papyrus’ laughing trailed off and Sans’ SOUL ached for his brother. He missed the kid a lot, even if Asgore was a casualty of their escape... Processing both feelings at the same time was a source of difficulty. Sans still felt bad for having no answers for Papyrus.

“BUT THEY LEFT US A YEAR AGO NOW... SO I’LL BE GIVING YOU A DIFFERENT BREAKING NEWS UPDATE!” 

“`Wow! What is the secret to the Royal Guard?? The suspense is killer, my wonderful viewers, I just know this revelation will be absolutely titillating!”`

“NYEH, YOU SEE... THE ROYAL GUARD... IS ALL ABOUT EXTREME LANDSCAPING NOW! UPENDING THE ROOTS OF EVIL, NOURISHING THE SOFT SOILS OF OUR ANCESTORS!!” There was an excessive, pre-recorded applause playing from speakers. He heard a loud gasp from Papyrus before Mettaton could speak, and a skittering of boots heading to the kitchen. “OH NO, I WAS TOO BUSY THINKING OF WATERING PLANTS, I SHOULD BE OFFERING MY GUEST A DRINK!! PLEASE ALLOW ME TO REMEDY THAT RIGHT AWAY!!”

“`Well, there you have it ladies, gentlemen, and plants alike- gardening! What a thrilling conclusion for the brave defenders of our race!! But what other surprises are in store as your beautiful host delves deeper into this drab and ordinary home?! I can assure you of one remaining plot twist which will definitely quench your thirst for excitement!!”`

``Next thing Sans knew, he was being doused wth a powerful stream of ice-cold water. He was startled out of his comfy couch-burrow, flopping onto the floor as he resisted against the jet. “augh--kkfh! what the hell!?”

“`Viewers, if you guessed that I _brought my own drink_ , then you were ABSOLUTELY RIGHT! Debuting the NEW Mettaton Super Sudser 3000, featuring cornea-scarring bright colors and motivational, discomforting water application! As you can see, Sans is having a BLAST!`”

“get out of my house!” Sans scrambled to get out of the spray trajectory but couldn’t move his sluggish bones as quickly as he wanted; he opted instead to snag a cushion and shield himself.

“WOWIE!!! I LOVE IT!” Papyrus bounded into the room with more eagerness than a dog fetching a stick, leaping up onto the couch. “ME NEXT! HIT ME NEXT!” Mettaton hosed him with the colorful plastic gun replica. Sans dared to peek around the cushion shield as Papyrus went down.

“what do you even want from me?”

“`Well, it seemed to me you weren’t even getting ready to do your stand up act at the Resort this evening, so I have inconvenienced myself by coming all the way out here to assist with that! Don’t sound so ungrateful, Darling~”`

“ok, but consider this: i _wasn’t_ going to go tonight, and you’re interrupting our dinner.”

“SANS, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WERE GOING TO BLOW OFF YOUR WORK AGAIN!” Papyrus chimed in, now at floor-level with him, with a pout. “YOU KNOW I CAN SAVE IT FOR WHEN YOU GET BACK HOME!” 

“`Precisely!! How do you ever expect to be a star with that attitude?`” He fired the water gun again, nearly clipping the top of Sans’ skull even though he ducked. “`Whether you like it or not, I NEED you tonight, it’s urgent. But feel free to resist more, the ratings love me and they LOVE a good struggle! Hahahaha!!`”

* * *

 

Well, damn, apparently he _could_ harass him to go to work.

Mettaton practically kidnapped Sans and flew back to Hotland. He could have tried to escape, but now Papyrus was in on it... What the hell, it would make him happy. His bro was the best trooper afterall.

“```Here we are! I know, it’s exciting, isn’t it?!“  
`

“this is hardly my first time at the resort, mtt.” The place hadn’t changed much on the gilded surface, but several walls had been knocked out and replaced with sliding panels; it was easier now to rearrange the layout of main hall as well as its decor. He’d seen a couple of other configurations, too.  

“`Come on, Darling, play along already. Don’t be such a downer!”`

``“if i’m a downer, does that make you a _drown_ er?” Sans squinted, still sopping wet. 

“`Haha, that’s better! I have other arrangements to make before the guests arrive for the evening, so you might as well wait here for me and get your act together in the meantime.”`

``“hmm.” Sans inspected his elbow area with a squeeze. “funny bone? check. yep, ready for my closeup-” Mettaton had already wheeled off, leaving him alone by the fountain. Ugh... whatever, he might as well go back home to catch Papyrus’ dinner. He’d feel less cranky too if he could relax a bit before showtime anyhow.

Just before he teleported, he spotted everyone’s favorite mangy feline, looking  tormented as usual and pushing an empty wheeling cart to the dining area, so Sans decided to at least offer him a sympathetic lack-of-ear for his glitter-encrusted grievances.

“ey burgz.” Burgerpants was startled out of grumbling to himself, stubby tail stiffening and fur raising. 

“Oh god. Don’t talk to me, I swear I heard Mettaton’s voice just a second ago. He can’t be back already.”

“he is, but he went off somewhere. how’s it goin’?” Sans asked.

Burgerpants laid his elbows on the greasy cart and buried his face in his paws. 

“that bad, huh?”

“This job is endless suffering. I need a cigarette. Or five.” He sighed dramatically and rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. “My shift ended an hour ago but he keeps coming along and giving me more stuff to do. And then some stupid brat bit me. Like I don’t get chewed up and spit out enough as it is.”

“was it a dog by any chance? cause it sounds to me like you’ve had a pretty _ruff_ day.” Sans chuckled to himself. The cat monster’s eye twitched and he made some throat clearing sound that could have been a hairball.

“Eerrgh, I know you’re trying to cheer me up. But I’m onto you, Sans. You cozy up to vendors so they cut you a break.” Sans rocked back on his calcanei, shoving both hands into his jacket pockets. Well, that wasn’t a _lie_... “It’s kind of scammy really... I think you should keep going,” Burgerpants added in a hushed sidenote, ears flattening. “I want to be important enough to bribe and swindle.”

“ha ha, aw c’mon, it ain’t necessarily like that. who _doesn’t_ like to get their wheel greased?” He winked and added, “i just prefer the real stuff, hot out of a fryer.”

“Is that how you’ve gotten so fat lately?” 

Sans stiffened, surprised by his candor. Geez, that really came out of left field. It... Wasn’t a lie, but he hadn’t considered what kind of answer he’d even give to someone affirming his gluttonous behavior. Especially so... bluntly. Burgerpants didn’t seem to notice Sans’ dwelling, nose wrinkling up in disgust. “That grease is so noxious. You wouldn’t like it so much if you had to stand over it all day.”

“contrary to popular belief, i do eat other stuff too.” Sans mused and giggled embarrassingly to himself. “he heh heh, i'm an equal opportunity consumer.”

“You couldn’t pay me to eat anything at this Resort. Even the good quality stuff we bring in from New Home.” Mettaton liked to bring in chefs and culinary experts from New Homes’ elite class, and offered their food during seminars where _he_ was the one to endlessly ramble instead of giving the guest of honour their fair share of the spotlight

“huh. i’m surprised mtt’s still doing that.”

“Oh yeah, well, you know how it is, boss just repackages it like they’re _his_ prodigies because they use his equipment. Viola! Their success is his success.” Burgerpants rolled his eyes, securing his paws on the cart handle again. “I wish I could convincingly claim other people’s hard work like that. He’s an evil genius.”

( _Don’t give mtt that much credit kid, his hubris is big enough,_ ) Sans mulled as Burgerpants continued.

“In fact, one of those events just finished up, but the monsters who showed up were messier than humans in a goo field. How did they manage to stick wasabi to the ceiling...?! And there’s soy sauce and wet napkins all over the tables...” He rubbed at his face then stopped, twinkling eyes on Sans.

“what is it? i’m the last person you want to talk to about being a gross slob, heh.”

“No... well, can you keep an eye out for Mettaton for me? I- I really want a cigarette before I have to go back into that warzone. Just a small break? _Please._ ” Burgerpant’s eyes grew wide, lips puckering together as he trembled and begged. “Ever since he deemed it not cool to smoke anymore, he’s been on a crusade to deny me the only thing left that keeps me sane.” 

Sans shrugged his shoulders. “sure, just make it quick. i was on my way back home to grab a snack before the festivities begin.”

“ _Thank you_.” Apparently he didn’t need to be told twice. The cat bounded away as fast as he could to get his fix. Sans waited a moment before curiosity got the better of him and slipped into the dining area.

Hmm, he’d rate this slovenly mess a 5. Good execution but it lacked vision and follow through. The whole hall had been equipped with stools and short tables of varying heights, and they followed along a winding conveyor belt. Sans was a little too short to see the plates that lined it. He strolled over and stepped up on the lower rungs of the shortest stool to have a closer look- ahhh, there was still sushi on these plates? Were they wasting all of this?

He threw a sideways glance for Burgerpants’ return. Hmm, nope, he was definitely alone. Well... it wouldn’t hurt to try tasting some of the leftovers...

Sans first grabbed a small tuna maki; a nice chunk of raw, meaty tuna, surrounded by white rice rolled in seaweed, and dabbed with a spicy sriracha sauce.  He had no idea how long it had been sitting out. The meat could be cooler, but the cut was even tenderer than raw steak. The sticky rice was dense, just a little sweet and sour from the vinegar,and moist enough to counter the dry, crisp seaweed wrapped around it. His face lit up in delight as he looked out over the plates of unwanted food lining the unmoving conveyor belt.

Bugerpants wouldn’t mind if he took care of these leftovers, right? He was saving him some effort.

Next he grabbed a crab sushi roll with cream cheese and cucumber tucked inside the rice wrap. Sans was surprised by the crisp-smooth combined consistency, he liked the soft feel along his tongue but it could use more flavor. The cream did cool the heat lingering from the sriracha in his mouth at least.

Oh! He had no idea what meat was inside this one but it was fantastic, it had been cooked in a sweet garlicky barbecue sauce, it was a little mushy with the rice and spring onion and cool cucumber wrapped with. The best part were the bright orange, salty bubbles garnishng them which popped in his mouth in a ticklish manner. They were some kind of fish egg... Toby-ko? Something like that, if he recalled correctly. It’d been a while since he ate out with Alphys.

He hummed a happy note, leaning against the counter to reach further down the belt for a colorful piece of octopus wrapped with a band of seaweed over some rice. The stool slid away unsteadily as his fat belly pressed against the table edge, but Sans snagged it successfully and readjusted his position to something more stable. Oh yes, this was called tako sashimi. He nearly forgot to dip it in the spilled soy sauce dripping off the edge of the table in his eagerness, but he was glad he did. Whoever prepared this did a great job tenderizing the soft and chewy octopus!

Sans wanted more. Nobody was going to miss all of this delicious food. He discovered these next rolls were really wrapped with grilled beef, not seaweed. They had been browned in yakitori sauce, and stuffed with cooked white, long-stalked mushrooms. This other plate had been picked over, but he gobbled up the remaining fried squid and drained, rather than dipped, the roasted tomato sauce accompanying it. Shoot, he ought to try convincing Grillby to put calamari on the menu, he’d forgotten how much he loved those battered rings...! Sans got hold of more tuna, this time as a good meaty slice on a bed of rice and dipped in soy sauce, and it was even more brilliant than his first taste as the cut was fattier and just melted in his mouth like butter. 

He stepped down and prowled around the winding trail to another plate isolated without a nearby stool. Sans reached an arm up to blindly feel around for it and huffed in annoyance. He didn’t sense any shortcuts that would get him any higher up. Why did this setup have to be made for such tall monsters? 

Moving a stool looked like too much work and getting up there was... well, Sans returned back to the shortest stool with the lower rungs and tried to work himself up to sit on top. He struggled and scratched at the table top for support, wrapping his femur around before he could safely shift the weight of his pelvis fully onto the fixture. It creaked in angry protest. Sans agreed for a change - top heavy seats were really not pleasant for him, especially at- and he opted to clamber onto the conveyor belt itself.

“heh heh, back to my _fishin’_ expedition,” He giggled to himself and navigated freely to collect up unclaimed plates. Sweet inarizushi, fried tofu pouches with bamboo shoots, and pork egg rolls stuffed with cabbage were plentiful. Tastier fried goods to be found were the takoyaki fried octopus balls, and he wished there had been more still after he finished the last of them. 

Oh well, at least there were these interesting inside out sushi rolls to fill up on. The sticky rice on the outside was topped with more tobiko salty bubbles, thinly sliced cucumber garnish, and a spicy sauce, with extra crunchy shrimp tempura on the inside of the seaweed wrap. It had an impressive, bold flavor. There were other, more traditional looking sushi rolls at a cleaner section of the belt, he could taste the rolled egg omelette, spinach, cucumber, mushroom and that... fish again... oh was it eel? He felt like it was eel.

“ _ **bbrruuup**_! whoops, uh, itadakimasu?” Ehh he felt like he probably got that wrong too. At least he tried?

He popped a few stray scallop sushi bites with tobiko and that spicy sauce in his mouth. Some of the nigiri looked half eaten, topped with shredded egg or avocado alternatively, the meat a more boring, tasteless salmon. He took care of the leftovers for them, totally unfazed that another monster put it in their mouth. The cold green tea, however, was gross and distinctly tasted like backwash. He cringed it down then bit into some pickled ginger to mask the flavor immediately. 

Sans puffed a sigh and surveyed the damage, chewing idly while rubbing his filled belly. He had made short work of the scraps though he hadn’t exactly cleaned up- the spilled soy sauce got smeared on him somewhere along the line and was now leaving a clear trail of destruction. Whoops.

Oh well, at least none of that delicious seafood went to the garbage. ( Just the garbage _disposal._ ) He laughed out loud at himself, belly jiggling in his cupped phalanges underneath. It felt so good to eat freely, be freely what he was. The concerns Grillby brought to his attention seemed far away-

`"Ssaaaans~ You better be here or you will live to regret ittt~`” The robotic sing-song tone nearby crushed his giddy mood, and Sans scrambled to find a way down. He couldn’t get caught here! Mettaton would probably make him pay for it anyway, even if it was other people’s trash! He scrambled quickly onto the shortest stool but the weight of him tipped the _fish scales,_ and the stool toppled over, taking Sans on a one-way trip down with it.

“yike,” He yelped but caught himself in air with a flash of blue magic, disentangling himself from the stool which clattered on the ground. Sans sighed in relief, slippered feet resting safely on the carpet.

“`THERE you are!`” Mettaton exclaimed as he entered the room, and his hand shot out on his long, cable-like arm and snagged Sans by his jacket hood. “`What are you doing? And where is Burgerpants, he’s supposed to be cleaning up this mess!`” 

“i was looking for a jukebox so i could play whats new pussycat for him.” Sans grinned cheekily. “i dunno where he went though.” 

“ `Humph, that good for nothing stray, he probably ran away again. But no worries, **I’ll** deal with him.`” Sans wished Burgerpants his silent condolences. “`Come along now, you still have to get ready darling. The show MUST go on!`” 

Greeeaaat.  
````

* * *

 

The dressing room was exactly what he expected of Mettaton: A runway-like hallway lined by mirrors with bright spotlight-like bulbs burning overhead. The mirrors were cut out into star shaped patterns along their tops, and heavily framed with gold and pink, and some glimmering, square lights flickered and flashed. It was obnoxious and just oozing with the robot's aesthetic tastes - even the floor tiles flashed with colorful lights.

Sans just squinted and tried not to let the loudness of the hall disturb him. He hoped he’d get some kind of visor with with the clothes because the bulbs were positioned at just the right height to be migraine-inducing.

He strolled to the end of the runway, where the hall flared out into a room filled with clothing racks, which he immediately focused on shuffling through, and boxes full of props. Mettaton didn't have co-stars, everyone was a disposable part in his acts… So he had to wonder what kind of variety there would even be.

Finally, Sans came across a black suit piece and felt relieved to know there was _something_ Mettaton owned that wasn't gaudy and brazen. The slacks appeared to have never been worn, even, though considering the robot mostly operated on a single wheel, that was a sensible conclusion. _( Guess I should be happy to have two-legged pants at all. )_ The pants were a touch long on him but he could work with it, just as long as he kept the waist line down where it was comfortable under his gut.

The coat, which had picked up some glitter in its travels, was wide across the back, and looked big enough. Sans decided to give it a shot. He slipped off Toriel's jacket and laid it on a box, then twisted as he threaded each boney arm through the arms of the coat. It was heavily squared at the shoulders, a bit awkwardly so, but the arms had a good length. So far so good! Then he tried to button the front to conceal his nasty, soy sauce stained, lay-around-the-house shirt but he couldn't even pull it closed around his stuffed belly.

Shit. Well, he probably should have realized this would happen before he ate all of that sushi… Sans sighed then exhaled deeply, squeezing in to pull the wool across and fasten one of the buttons. Ugh, he hated buttons so much, they were tricky to hold with his bony phalanges to begin with… On that principle alone, Papyrus and him had agreed to never come home with buttons in their clothes, even if it was an awesome dump find. His stomach snarled in protest and he sighed heavily in resignation, releasing the sides of the coat.

"huff… c'mon, pal, don't be so up _tight_." Again, he breathed out as far as he could and tried to move quickly. Sans successfully threaded the first button and fumbled around with the second. As if his stomach was doing it purposefully for revenge, he felt a tickle rising up past his clavicle and into his hyoid bone. The urging twitch doubled his strain to hold back, but he got the second button through.

Nailed it! He dropped his hands and burped out the pent up gas, " **BBBBRRRRHUUUUUHP!** bluuugh…" Leaning back where he stood, Sans tried to rub his gut to relieve the pressure but he was so damn constricted. His bubbly belly groaned and resisted, fighting to stretch the wool out. Sans swallowed down the sickened feeling and rounded the corner to take a look at the attire.

Oh man, it looked ridiculous. The fabric was pulled taut into an x-like shape, the fabric wrinkled around the shiny black buttons as it held on for dear functionality, and the jacket itself had bunched up around his middle, the rise revealing his tum peeking out from under his shirt. Sans whistled between his teeth.

"whew, such a class act you are. what the hell was mettaton thinking?" Obviously he hadn't thought Sans was this fat. ( _That's what you get for underestimating me._ ) Sans grinned to himself and suddenly burst out laughing, weirdly thrilled. His heavy belly, bouncing with his laughter, wound up being too much for the coat to handle The bottom button's thread gave away; it pinged off like a magic bullet, plinking against the mirror across from him.

He inhaled sharply in surprise, fumbling with the edges of the jacket which splayed open. "wait, no… i needed that," He whined, pressing on his belly with both hands. There were only two buttons, and even though he looked like a bloated water sausage stuffed into too-small of a wrapper, this was better than looking like he didn't even _try_.

Sans retrieved the button and his stomach pushed out further as he bent over, loudly popping the last one off effortlessly. He ducked his head down at the ricocheting button as it bounced off the mirror. "shit…!" The button sailed over his shoulder and his tummy wobbled forward with gravity.

Sans shook and flushed bright blue, staring distantly at the button and pausing as if it was far away before getting it back. After retrieving the second he turned both over in his hands. Pairing them up to the frayed threads they were plucked from, Sans settled into his shock. He really _did_ just ruin this jacket effortlessly… Papyrus probably could fix it real quick, but this was not the conversation he wanted to be having before getting forced up on a stage.

That's when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. When was the last time he did that anyway? Actually _looked_ at himself? Currently, he looked as disheveled as he felt, but his belly… Well, his belly just… Hung there. As it pushed up his shrinking shirt, newly broken free from restraint of the jacket, it seemed so… _dominant_. The white and blue magic forming the organ glowed and growled quietly as it still negotiated with his meal.

Sans took as deep a breath as he could. His belly pushed out even further as he inhaled, and gently sank when he exhaled. He grabbed a handful on either side over his pelvic bone and the digesting magic shifted away from his squeezing with a gentle, unconscious motion. Watching with increasing wonder, he finally settled his wandering hands at the furthermost edges of his heavily curved mass and tried lifting it up. It certainly had a form of its own that it wanted to adhere to, but it also jiggled and wobbled across the entire fleshlike surface like a rippling, thick pudding.

"phew, you're quite a _handful_ there, buddy," He finally said to himself after the silent observation. "i guess if i'm not careful, you're going to be the one swallowing _me_ up." Sans couldn't help but shiver with anticipation at the thought of being so big. Both garments were quickly removed, clearing all obstructions so he could appreciate the full scope of his fatness. Since when did the continuous blue blob swallow up the space in front of all his ribs? Looking through the hallway mirrors, Sans was astonished to find it had also continued up his back as well, settling over each scapula. It was like wearing a whole upper body vest made of his delicious indulgences… A veneer of decadence in varying thickness… He giggled, then laughed, then doubled over in hysterics.

"`Don't waste your best material on the mirrors.`" 

Mettaton's robotic voice down the end of the hallway quickly sobered Sans’ ecstatic fit. He hiccuped and rubbed his sore, heavy gut in his lap. "o-oh… it's definitely gone to _waist_." He nearly burst into another fit of laughter but he gasped heavily as his fat torso cocoon gurgled uncomfortably in digestion; Sans just wheezed with appreciation instead.

"`Well, hurry it up in there!! The guests will begin arriving in five minutes!`" 

Oh well, no pressure. He grimaced and stretched himself out, joints popping. ( _Ugh, if you had dropped me off here earlier instead of making me wait, I might have been able to get ready in time…_ ) Not that he minded taking full advantage of good, free food in the least, but Sans hated to be rushed.

He was back up, this time abandoning the clothes rack in resignation they'd all be too slim, and dug through the boxes. The first thing he pulled out was frilly. This looked like… a full maid outfit dredged up out of the garbage dump. It had dried out, but hadn’t been cleaned yet? Bizarre, Sans didn't recall Mettaton ever wearing that in his shows. Or… any of this stuff. Sans fished around, finding a vast array of noticeably dirty attire. From cotton to polyester, oddly decorated and high-riding skirts to plastic molded fake armor. This looked more like a massive collection of odd finds than clothing ready for the dressing room…

( _Will this fit?_ ) Sans held up an overly fancy coat, scrutinizing it. He wasn't given a chance to try it on as superstar dialpad wheeled down the runway.

"`Oh my…! You're not even half dressed yet! Is that my coat on the floor?`"

"yeah, about that," He laid the garment back in the box, and stepped into the hallway with the distressed robot, shrugging. "i tried, see? it just didn't _shape_ up to be _suit_ able for me."

"`Tsk…! This won't do at all, I need you out on that stage!`" Mettaton scooped up his jacket and examined the buttons as Sans watched, nonchalant.

"i didn't get a chance to ask before, but how come you're not performing if it's such an important event to you?"

"`I can't be the entertainment for this crowd! Inconceivable…!`" His hand disappeared into his cylindrical arm, procuring a complex looking attachment and stabbing it into the jacket, the pin and arm moving quickly. "`Trust me, I'd be more than happy to give them the best entertainment gold can buy! But that's just not the way this can be. Not this time.`"

"wow, i didn't know you were _sew_ talented."

"`Of course! You should pay more attention to my details like your brother, oho~ I am a self made robot with unlimited ability to dazzle!`" Yet, why couldn't he do this performance tonight? ( _Hmm._ ) Mettaton flapped the garment after repairing the buttons, swiftly moving each sleeve up Sans’ arms.

"we both know that's not true." The coat was equipped now, but the robot stopped in his tracks as he faced the same problem as Sans had before. Sans grinned awkwardly and giggled with a nervous tickle in his tummy. "uh-heh-heheh, we got a bit of a wardrobe malfunction on our hands."

"`Why didn't you tell me you needed a suit tailored for your size`," Mettaton lamented and pulled hard at the fabric. The yank crushed Sans in, making him wince. "`I don't have time for this!`" He'd have argued if he could breathe. Mettaton managed to force the jacket closed and buttoned it up, then moved back to look Sans over. "`You look… absolutely dreadful.`"

"thanks," He wheezed back. The robot wheeled a circle around Sans as he just watched through the mirror.

"`This won't do at all. Can't you just detach that magic for the night?`" Sans gave Mettaton the dirtiest look he could muster. "`Fine, then we'll just have to restrain it! I have tape here somewhere…`"

"nope, no way. i won't be able to work my magic taped up like a _tummy mummy_." Mettaton ignored his jokes.

"`Trust me darling, I'll engineer something- just… take that off before you stretch it out anymore.`" Mettaton set to work on his wardrobe, leaving Sans on the runway to watch himself. His phalanges fumbled at the buttons again, curiously making quarter turns to look at how the jacket pulled tight around his sides. In a way, the tightness wasn't so bad… at least, for him to look at his growing shape. He watched it slide open again and his tummy tumbled out with mild relief.

"oof… get a load of that, heheh…" He stroked it up and down to watch how it wobbled and conformed around his hand. It was tightest just at the edges of his ribcage; he immediately felt the affects of applying pressure and hiccuped against the shock of magic. He groaned and rubbed it tenderly… No wonder that jacket was torturous.

"`Here! This is perfect!`" Mettaton swung around the corner and froze in place, his face screen flashing red in frustration. "`STOP GOOFING AROUND!`"

"i-i'm not," He protested but shrank back, flustered, tucking his arms behind his back to slide the coat off. Mettaton was beside him in an instant to take the clothing.

"`Do NOT make me regret this, Comic!`" He didn't hesitate to pull some dark stretchy material over Sans' skull, tugging it down. Mettaton picked at and smoothed it over, guiding it around some angular bones along his spine and over his acromia, and maneuvered it right down over his thick belly. With some tugging, the fabric stretched around him and came halfway down his pelvic bone. Well it… Certainly seemed to hold up. It still felt constrictive, but he never really wore tight clothing intentionally so _anything_ form fitting would feel suffocating. "`Good!`"

"i guess?" Sans looked foreign to himself in the mirror. It did accentuate his shape on one hand, but on the other… all of those cute folds, and his well earned belly, looked flatter and felt minimized. He didn’t look BIG. He frowned.

"```Of course it's good! This easy to maneuver design is going to be the perfect camouflage for stage hands when I go into theater!!`" He waved both hands into the air as the lights brightened and shimmered, electricity crackling with his 'positively spectacular declaration'. It was just like a page out of Papyrus' fanbook, even evoking the same exact amount of disinterest in Sans.

"ok. when's that?"

"`Whenever I get the approval to remodel the lab into ‘MTT’s GRAND Hall of the Arts!`" Mettaton could be pretty persuasive but that was not happening, he was sure of it. "`Now hold still`," he announced and pulled out another shirt. This time it was a white dress shirt with a line of sequins the breast bone, and the upper half of it colored a soft blue. Sans squinted uneasily but was getting manhandled like a dress up toy regardless. That part he didn't mind as much, it was… Weirdly the most entertaining thing Mettaton had ever done. Sans flushed and squirmed after the robot pulled it straight and his hands rested momentarily on his chubby love handles.

"so uh, hey boxy, why do i gotta wear two shirts…?"

"`You're a comedian, not a poet! That undershirt is just to help control your curves and tuck you in a little.`"

( _As if they need control?_ ) Sans grinned back hard to mask his spite.

"i uh…" He came up blank as Mettaton started buttoning him up from the bottom. Sans didn't like this idea much, but he remembered that he was the oddball here and the show was _really_ for the robot's sake. As long as he never had to wear this garbage again, he could survive the night… The shirt still had to be pulled in along the furthermost bulge of his gut, so Mettaton pushed down and Sans stumbled backward with a loud groan of indigestion. "nnghl, nooo i don't think so mtt. not unless you want _upchuck_ on the schedule tonight with _updog_."

"`For the love of-, there is only room for one drama queen in here, so you better get your act together`," Mettaton whirred back. "`Just suck it in, Alphys does!`"

"are you admitting that you watch alphys change," Sans countered with a shiteating grin, but it didn't save him from Mettaton’s buttoning. He did suck in hard to prevent Mettaton from taking _alternative measures_ … The robot usually had a better time at pretending to have some chill, so Sans was getting really curious as to what this event was. That and a touch nervous - being in these uppity clothes did _not_ feel good.

"`There,`" He exclaimed and rolled back after straightening Sans’ collar. The skeleton looked over his tight gut where the creases set in even without him breathing deep… but the shirt really did make him look slimmer, with roomier chest space and a design to distract. "`You're… presentable! It's good enough, now get out there and knock them dead! And don't do anything to embarrass me or the Resort!`" Sans huffed for breath and grimaced as he swore he felt a little give, but an inspection turned up nothing noticeable.

"uh… sure, ok..."

* * *

 

This wasn’t Sans’ first time doing stand up comedy at the Resort. Usually he’d cover for a night that Mettaton couldn’t line up a musical act or was offering a cheaper rate on alcoholic beverages; he could deal with their drunkenness and they could have a good time regardless of his pun torture. Their ability to appreciate humor was just as random too, he’d been booed on his way out with the same material he’d gotten lots of applause for. It was something different in their mundane lives at least.

Many city folk from New Home spent their evenings here and his audience was _always_ a mixed bag... Except for tonight. Nope, it was all ghosts as far as the eye could see. They were grouped around small plates of ghost food and talking quietly among themselves.

Sans wasn’t even aware this many ghosts _existed_ in the Underground. Even when he lived in New Home, he’d never met more than four, _maybe_ five. Well, at least they weren’t likely to get rowdy, they seemed like such naturally polite monsters.

“evening,” He grinned into the mic as he casually strolled on stage. It didn’t amplify his voice at all and his eyesockets creased in frustration. Right, of _course_ the battery would be empty now. The stagehand mouse scampered after him and exchanged it with another mic, dragging along a chord. “hello- okay, this works.” Sans nearly sighed but felt the increasing tightness of his gut and instead tried to restrain himself to a more shallow breath. This was not getting off to a good start.

“heh, go figure, it was _dead_ ,” He announced awkwardly about the mic situation. “so hey, evening folks. is it just me or is it a _ghost town_ in here tonight?” There was a lone cheer or two but, because the dining crowd quieted their conversations to give him their undivided attention, silence predominantly rang. “mmmh, _lively_ bunch, as i’d expect. there’s gonna be a party after dinner tonight down at the _tomb_ but it’s b.y.o.b... bring your own _boos_.”

It was so quiet he could hear his own sweat drip on the floor. “heh heh... don’t let that dampen your _spirits_ now... ya’ll havin’ a good time tonight?” Still, his crowd was unresponsive. Sans was having a hard time clocking this crowd; at least a bad response would be clear he should change up his jokes. His free hand reached for his jacket pocket and found nothing of the sort and he froze. ( _Stupid tiny shirt,_ ) He cursed inwardly. The pants pockets were far too low to comfortably reach in, and he couldn’t rest his arm over the curve of his stomach thanks to the shirt tucking him in. 

At least he was a master at smiling at terrible situations. He winked and twirled the mic cable with the free hand instead. “well, the resort has lots of stuff to offer on their _moan_ -u. i heard the _spook_ -ghetti and _ghoul_ -ash are _to die for_... and the cream of aspara _ghost_ is _super_ -natural but watch it, it’ll _go right through you_.”

The ghost audience gave a couple of shifts, there might have been a stifled giggle somewhere in there but it also could have been a cough. Sans’ stomach responded with noisy gurgles as if it had been summoned by food jokes. He swallowed back his increasing discomfort and magical responses to his anxiety.

“so most of you live out in the city?” Finally, a couple louder murmurs. So they _were_ capable of sound. “ah, good ol’ new home... there’s so many monsters and so much going on, sometimes you really feel _invisible_. but it’s also quite a _spectre-cle_.”

Sans kept trying seeing as he didn’t really have a choice. He couldn’t get them to smile or laugh at _anything_. Nervous shifting and pacing this way and that established they were watching him, but nothing seemed to break them from the somber atmosphere. Was this why Mettaton forced him to take the task? Were they incapable of reacting?

And just when he assumed things couldn’t get any worse, he tripped over the mic cable. 

He should have stayed in place like he usually did, but he made a tactical error trying to work through the nervous magic pouring into his bones. There was plenty of chance to break his fall and play it off but, all at once, his anxiety peaked and his magic took a sickening and violent surge ahead without him. Just like Grillby warned him about. Just like he promised himself he wouldn’t do.

Sans made a split second choice to scramble for magical control instead of catching himself. It all happened too fast to think about anything else. So rather than blasting a bone through the stage, his pelvis and humerus hit the ground hard and he was laid flat out on his back, dazed.

“nghh,” He whined and rolled over on his side to escape the glare of the bright lights in his sockets. He felt sick all over- his bones were throbbing in pain, his stomach was twisted tighter than a pretzel, he felt hot and strangled in this awful outfit- if it weren’t for the vertigo he’d have just teleported home and resigned to whatever consequences would come later. Sans loathed everything that brought him to being here in this moment instead of snuggled up on his couch with his brother for the evening with a nice plate of spaghetti.

Then he heard laughter.

It wasn’t an uproar, but it seemed to dominate the room. They... thought him falling down was funny? Ghosts were into _physical gag humor_? That didn’t even make sense. But.. somehow, the situation was salvaged a little.

He pushed himself upright with a _riiiiippp!_ That was the last straw (or strand), for his white outer shirt, the seam splitting open on his left side. His belly struggled for freedom in his lap. Sans swallowed hard and groaned, relieved to be able breathe in deep again. Slowly heaving himself up on both calcanei, he looked out at their glowing smiles.

“hhhhheheh...” He chuckled back with a cyan-blue flushed face. “heh... so you think _that’s_ funny, huh? well you shoulda seen the time a dog ran away with some of my bones. _tibia_ honest, i didn’t have a _leg_ to stand on.” They laughed again lightly, Sans shrugging off his worries. “having a physical form ain’t all it’s _cracked_ up to be, as an egglender would say. that’s no _yoke_. they _beat_ themselves up over it all the time. it’s the life of being _thin shelled_.”

They still seemed amused and Sans rocked back on his heels, the ripping of his overshirt worsening. ( _Yikes, I should probably unbutton this before it gets even worse._ ) With one hand holding the mic, he tried to maneuver the buttons out, the first few around his collar came free easily. “i live out in snowdin, or as we call it, the land of hairballs. someday i feel like they’re going to become sentient. let me shed some light on how- _huff_ \- how hair transference works. if you pet a dog, the dogs hair gets quite _attached_ to you. it- it takes a while to _follicle_ off.” Sans struggled with the buttons around his navel, unable to see over the rounded curve of his gut and not quite dexterous enough in his phalanges. The crowd seemed to get a kick out of this so made more exaggerated motions with it before his tummy forced them out anyway. He just let white shirt hang on him and he sighed to himself, hoping Mettaton didn’t watch him destroying _another_ shirt. 

“sorry about that, seems my gut wants to be the _main course_ for ya. that’s still good, it has a _well rounded_ resume, especially in _pulling sitches_.” This time, the laughter was interrupted by a lone figure far off to the side in the front row, distinctly un-ghost shaped.

“YEAH,” the Mad Dummy shouted. “I HATE PULLING STITCHES! Physical forms aren’t all that great anyway!” The crowd chimed in with a buzz of excitement at their declaration, all in agreement despite not possessing an inanimate object themselves.

Sans stood there dumbstruck and mulled this over for a moment.

These are ghosts. Their magic never takes a physical form as a reflection of their SOUL like all of the other monsters. They don’t know what it’s like to fall on the floor or rip a shirt... Did they think they are better than that? It wouldn’t line up with Mettaton refusing to act, he’s technically a ghost too-

( _Wait, that's it_! _)_ Mettaton couldn’t be up here because he knew how they feel. Ghosts are disconnected from having a form they want, so they laugh about the struggles of physical bodies to make them feel better about not having one... In a way, Sans knew this feeling precisely too, since he had lived with a disconnect from his short, squat body and his desire to be big. 

“...heh. you got that right, pal. physical forms _are_ just a whole mess of trouble.” His audience quieted, captivated by what he’d say next. Sans winked one eyesocket and grinned back. “once captain undyne, yanno of the ol’ royal guard?- she was training her sentry in snowdin and the cold got under her scales. she started sneezing these _icicle spears_ out of control. snotsicles i call ‘em. it was gross and dangerous according to my bro, but i thought it was just the funniest thing to watch.” They were laughing already but when he began to mimic the motions and sounds of the boisterous sneeze, they went hysterical. 

“papyrus- he’s the best okay, he tries so hard to take her seriously while this is going on. he starts shouting back at her, like it’s a mantra for catchin humans, “ _i’llcatchyew! i’llcatchyew!_ ” she couldn’t even stop long enough to tell him to knock it off...”

* * *

 

Sans had no trouble keeping his audience entertained for the night with stories, puns, and gestural gags focused around misfortune and excessive importance of physical forms. He was tired of talking by the end of it, and doubly tired in general really, but hung around after changing back into his clothes and picking up a shake from Burgerpants’ stand to suck on. He wandered back to see most of the ghosts had left. Or had gone invisible. That was a hard call to make.

“oh......... you’re still here......” A lone ghost sporting a unique watery top hat materialized beside Sans. “you were really funny......... is coming up with jokes hard.........?”

“mmh, sometimes? but life is easy to laugh at, and _living_ is hard.” He shrugged at Napstablook and took another deep drag on his straw. This shake was so very thick and he didn’t want to wait for it to melt down a bit more, so off the lid came, Sans tipping the heavy sludge back. That biting cold felt great...

“now that you mention it...... i guess it is, huh.........? you made ripping your shirt look easy though...” Sans nearly gagged on his mouthful.

“pfftgk, uh, _that_ was actually an accident.”

“oh...! oh no, I’m sorry,” The ghost quibbled and shrank back. “I wouldn’t have laughed if I had known...”

“nah, it worked out. besides, that wasn’t _my_ shirt, heh. have you seen double ‘t around?”

“not since he was saying goodbye to the family...... i don’t know, i was hoping to wait for him...” Family huh? These ghosts sure had a lot of little secrets they kept to themselves. 

“probably getting back in his robot body?” Sans asked, testing the waters. Napstablook seemed taken for surprise, probably over the fact Sans knew, but nodded.

“y-yeah...... did you see him? ah well...... he was really happy how this worked out...”

“that’s good,” Sans sighed, honestly relieved. Really good actually, he didn’t want to hear any slack from that dialpad. “can y’ ask him to just send over some signed merch for my bro for this? he’s a goofy mess for mtt.”

“`Why of course I can!!`” Mettaton appeared back up on stage, somersaulting in from behind the curtain and landing with a controlled spin of his wheel. “`Be they a tank dwelling, slime dripping, bilge-bag or sing the nonsense of wild wolfmen by fabled moonlight, I am most grateful to the fans who praise me passionately! Autographs are welcomed to everyone... For the right price! Hahahaha!!!`”

Sans and Napstablook, as the only two monsters in the dimmed room, stared.

“actually, nevermind. i want hazard pay instead.” 

“can I... can I get an autograph too, Mettaton...?”

“`Why of course, Blooky~!!`” He twirled fast, spinning off the stage and landing beside them. “`And you, Sans! You were tremendously mediocre tonight! You have my gratitude!`”

“the hazard pay wasn’t a joke. i’m not kidding,” He reiterated with a resolute grin.

“`Tsk! Don’t spoil the mood you worked so hard to create, now!`” Mettaton wagged a finger his way, and followed up by procuring a strange looking fan-like device and a marker, signing it with exaggerated strokes. “`Here now, it’s an _exclusive_! From my new line of beauty products, coming soon!`” Sans awkwardly took it and looked it over. A hair dryer? Why did Mettaton even have a hair dryer, he was made of metal...? And why was he giving it to a skeleton at that? Oh well, at least he spelled Papyrus’ name right.

“thanks...?”

“`He was a doll though, truly! You should bring him by sometime, perhaps he’d make a good fit for my talent agency!! As for your pay, well, you _did_ eat it all before the show.`” Sans suppressed a guilty wince, chuckling humorlessly. “`But~ I shouldn’t be stingy when my glorious debut _Aboveground_ is on the line!! Just eat what you want from the resort, it’s all on the house now!! You’re welcome!`”

“-hold up,” His eyesockets shot open wide and light-less, giving a stern look. “how do you know that?”

“`Oh dear, I know _everything_ in Alphys’ hard drives, every byte! Her encryption key is just SO predictable~`”

“met- metta, no, listen, that’s a **secret**! you can’t go talking about this right now...!” Then he remembered Napstablook was beside them, his head pivoting to the shy ghost. “uh...”

“I-It’s okay.........I didn’t hear anything...” He mumbled an apology before disappearing into thin air.

“`Now look, you scared away poor Blooky,`” Mettaton huffed in annoyance. “`News this big is prime time! How do you even expect to keep it on the low down when your physical form is mutating from all that magic?`” He tugged at the end of San’s white shirt for emphasis, rolling the fabric up to expose his content belly. “`If your plan works, you’ll end bigger than anything that _can_ keep you decent!`”

“hhheheh,” The skeleton bashfully giggled at the thought and shifted to get free. “yeah i-i know that, but i... i can’t tell pap yet. i don’t want to make excuses over how I want _my_ own form because of the barrier.” Mettaton went weirdly still, hands rested on his boxed hips before leaning back slowly, thoughtful.

“`... I see. Well!! I was spot on in selecting you to preform tonight! Good show.`” He turned and began to wheel away, Sans watching worriedly.

“mtt, please don’t report any of this on your-”

“`Report what? Your crazy _ambitions_? Ahahaha, oh, beautiful, you’re not newsworthy _yet_ ~! Toodles!!`”

Well, that was a relief. Sans swallowed down the last of his shake and eagerly went home. All you can eat at MTT Resort, huh...?   
Maybe it wasn’t worth the drama...


	12. (Non-Chapter, Happy Birthday Undertale!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to Undertale! I am blessed with fanart from all sorts of readers of this fic, but this one in particular is so outstanding and special to me, I figured I would post it as-is. It is kinda like a poster, huh? Haha! The image links to their commissions page on Tumblr, please consider supporting them and their beautiful art!!
> 
> Anyway, though I wanted this as a prologue chapter apparently AO3 does not allow a chapter 0. Oh well!

[ ](http://rockinrollsart.tumblr.com/post/150014946001/rockinrollsart-welcome-fellow-tum-lovers-art)

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to skeletonshitposts on tumblr for beta reading my work!
> 
> *** Knowing that this writer would love to hear your comments fills you with DETERMINATION.**


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